


Treason

by GlowwormiK



Series: Thace&Prorok [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Extroverted Prorok, Fluff to Angst, Galra Empire, Introverted Thace, Loneliness to Love, Love vs Duty, Loving Prorok, M/M, Original Galra officers, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, So... everyone dies, Spy Thace, The inside of the Galra Empire, galra - Freeform, kind of?...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-03-29 21:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 38,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13935918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlowwormiK/pseuds/GlowwormiK
Summary: When Thace is notified of his relocation with promotion, the Blade of Marmora sees it as a unique chance to gather important insider information, but the lieutenant finds something far more valuable in the new fleet: someone who makes him truly happy. Will he be able to make this happiness last, despite all the hardships?All my thanks goes to@hoatafor providing a unique critical view on the earlier versions of the text, helping me improve the plot greatly and proofreading it to make it sound like real literature. You are a magical fairy godfriend incarnate! T_T@empersiannicolefor having read the very first draft and having supported and inspired me ever since, for being the sweetest human being overall, as well as for producing art that kept me alive while writing (see individual chapter notes for links).@astfutfor having drawn the amazing art that sparked in me the idea to write this piece.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The work has been inspired by [ astfut](http://astfut.tumblr.com/post/165657926121).
> 
>  

With his first endless first day on duty is over, the newly appointed Commander Thace heads straight to his personal quarters. His face is a mask of calm dutifulness, his pace is steady, his breath is even and undisturbed. Yet when the door closes behind him, he inhales several times with a sob at the end and has to turn his head to and fro to allow air enter his throat. His hands shake when he tries to unzip the collar of his uniform. He sinks on his bed, grabbing and pulling his ears in desperation. He knows exactly what he had done to provoke an avalanche of events that lead to the ultimate catastrophe of today. He remembers how it began as if it was yesterday.

 

When he received a notification about his relocation, his comrades had uttered a united sigh of jealousy. The result outmatched everything any of them could imagine: he was to become assistant to Prorok, one of the most illustrious Commanders in the whole military forces, an unrivaled leader of one the biggest fleets in the empire. And a battle officer himself, mind you - the hero of Anuxxia, not just some desk jockey who made his way up with bootlicking  and cunning calculations. The promotion that made his fellow officers swoon set a heavy weight in Thace's chest.

 

“What am I supposed to do?“ he asked Kolivan during their next call from a half-ruined communication cell in the docks. “How can I serve the empire in central command, further it, if I hate it?“

 

“You can and you will,“ Kolivan said heavily, looking directly at Thace with his cold eyes. Though he was a friend, his gaze always made Thace uneasy. The Lieutenant knew that for his leader, he still was the lost teenager that he was when he joined the Blade. “This is a unique chance, the fact that Prorok chose you of all people is an incredible success that I can hardly explain with purely logical reasons. No Bl... none of us have ever been able to achieve such a high position. No one has been able to gain access to such sensitive information that you will see on a daily basis.”

 

In their talks, they avoided saying anything certain for fear of being overheard or hacked. All crucial data was being transmitted via ciphered messages on communicators. Very practical – if someone notices, you can always tell that someone sent the coordinates to the wrong number, which happened all the time.

 

“But I will be expected to perform an outstanding task in fulfilling Zarkon's policies! And I will be completely alone, surrounded by those dutiful murderers!” Thace was desperate, unable to put all his concerns in the few phrases his leader was inclined to listen to.

 

Kolivan didn't bat an eye, Thace's protests didn't touch him one bit.

 

“If you are expected to work well, than you will do that. You will behave like a harmless paper worm and you will gain access wherever possible. You will outperform everyone and make sure your senior officers have the highest opinions of you. At the same time, you will keep your eyes and ears open and gather as much information as you can."

 

Gather as much information as possible... _This was always his duty, right? Thace the quiet secretary? Thace the bookworm who has to leave his friends behind, not engage in active operations and play a faithful soldier for who knows how long?_ _Thace who watches someone else fight and win and in the meantime lowers his eyes politely when his senior officers approach?_ Kolivan seemed to have anticipated his reluctance.

 

"Your assignment is of the highest priority. I am far from happy to send you there, I’d prefer one of our older and more experienced members to do it, but we have no  choice. You will forget your objections until the Blade considers your work is over."

 

"That is, when I die?" Thace asked sarcastically.

 

_ One of our older members? What am I then, a schoolboy? And what is with the sudden despotism, this isn't like Kolivan... _

 

Kolivan frowned.

 

"This is your duty, Thace, and I expect you to put every possible effort into gaining this knowledge. Or are you backing down?”

 

Kolivan's eyes were as dark as gun barrels; Thace knew all too well what happens to those who back down. The Blade of Marmora cannot afford cowards and deserters.

 

“Of course I am not,” he sighed. “I understand how important this is. But you also need to understand something - I will be alone, with no back up if the mission goes wrong. I won’t be able to deliver information the way I used to, both out of danger of being revealed and because constant failures of my missions will not be tolerated at such a high level.”

 

Kolivan leaned back in his ragged armchair.

 

“Don't worry about that. During the first few phoebs, we will not contact you at all. Later, you will receive a safe way to communicate and we will be cautious to use the information you provided in the way that doesn’t reveal its origin. Just remember your impersonation training: a harmless secretary, neither particularly smart nor fierce. No muscle, just ears.”

 

With that, Kolivan switched off, and Thace sighed tiredly: it looked like from now on he would be constantly at risk of being revealed as a Blade, unable to talk to anyone openly, confined to a background role. A chance to show his fighting skills? Forget it! “We will not contact you at all”- thank you, dear leader.  _ Now the last thread connecting him to his friends was gone, last friendly ears lost to him. For the first time since many years, he would be left without any contact to the members of the Blade. From now on, he could trust no one. Except maybe he could call… _

 

The communication panel uttered a melodic whistling again. Thace pressed the button to reconnect.

 

"And Thace," Kolivan said, "don't you dare call Etor and tell him about your new assignment. I already told you, this man is untrustworthy."

 

"What?..." Thace exclaimed, blushing. "I wasn't going to call him! Why would you even think that? And even if I did, I wouldn't tell him anything about the Blade! Plus he is totally trustworthy! He’s just ambitious, that's all!"

 

Kolivan looked at Thace as if he saw a worm.

 

"Anyhow, I forbid you from telling him. Keep your assignment as private as possible."

 

When Kolivan switched off again, Thace gritted his teeth in anger.  _ Why are they all so mean to Etor? Sure, he did leave me, but he is still a friend! They all can just throw their partners around, they don't understand what it means to finally have found someone... _ Kolivan's life might have ended when he saw Agna's body hanging down from that lamp post, but Thace was still a living person. He didn't want to just exist as a living video recorder, he still wanted to feel and enjoy, even if it meant balancing at the edge of a terrible abyss...

 

Was. Was a living person, Thace sobs on the bed, shivering. Now he knows how Kolivan felt all those years ago, all the desperation clogs his mind and his throat, all he can do is whine helplessly. Nothing can be changed, nothing can be undone, it is all over, forever…


	2. Chapter 2

The morning before the trip to his new place of service Thace collected himself.  _ What a shame _ , he said to himself, checking the locks on his luxite blade scabbard to make sure it was safely shielded from scanning devices.  _ You are a Blade, you willingly accepted a huge responsibility; you bring the hour of Zarkon’s demise closer. What a disgrace, being jealous of others because you don't get to show off your prowess as much as you would like to!  _ He made himself think about his assignment, about how he would approach his new boss. 

 

The Blade didn’t have much personal information on his new Commander, as, amazingly for Thace, no officers from his fleet joined the rebels or even agreed to sell the data. Each fleet was more or less a closed entity, with internal information systems, but Thace had still seen Commander Prorok's face many times, as he was one of the few generals whose speeches were broadcasted openly. He spoke not only for his fleet and not even only for the military, but also to the outside, for aliens and those Galra who were too old, sick or stupid to serve in the army. Usually, the highest-ranking Commanders perceived it useless to address these “unworthy” members of the society, but Prorok didn’t seem to be above that. Thace saw him many times on screen, hands grasping the pult, brows furrowed, spitting words out with burning passion. The Lieutenant had to give him credit: he was one of the best speakers Thace listened to, being not only convinced but also emotionally charged, eloquent, spontaneous and charismatic - a sharp contrast to others who often struggled to produce any lengthy presentation and let their fists speak for themselves.  However, the content of his speeches that made everyone around Thace shout out in agreement made the Lieutenant writhe with disgust: he spoke of Galra superiority and Emperor’s wisdom, of inherent racial conflict and joy of wiping their enemies out of existence.

 

 _So how would he gain this fanatic’s trust? What would he need to do to make inroads with his officers that are probably much like their leader?_ _With people so devoted to the Empire that none of them would be willing to trade a couple of files for a good price?_ Thace made himself ready for whatever horrors me might encounter in the very heart of the empire. If Prorok's fleet was anything like the druids’ cruiser that stopped for refueling in the base Thace previously served at, then he would need all his inner strength to hold out.

 

When he arrived at Prorok's flagship, he was everything an ideal Lieutenant should be: neat, competent and collected. He made sure his uniform didn't have a single pleat anywhere and that his face showed none of what troubled him.  _ You are a quiet secretary rat, _ he repeated to himself.  _ You have never killed a man in your entire life. You never had to crack a password within five doboshes to escape with a memory stick. You are a boring, meticulous office man without any particular interests. _

 

However, when he arrived to the bridge and first met the man he was supposed to assist from now on, his jaw dropped. It wasn't that Prorok was a lot fatter and fluffier then he looked on-screen where they filmed him from the most heroic angles, and had an underbite, an unmistakable signs of a northerner brute. After all, Daibazaal was dead for millennia; the social construct of southerners and northerners was slowly lost over time with the loss of their ancient home. No, Thace could not believe his eyes for another reason: Prorok downright beamed with the kind of joyful perky energy that entirely contradicted the fanatical image Thace had of him. The material of his uniform had that unmistakable posh gleam to it, his nails were filed and polished and his dandified lush sideburns were carefully trimmed and combed into shape. Thace writhed internally. _This man is the Commander?_ _How could it be?_ _A soldier of the empire is supposed to be austere and think about his service, but this one definitely didn't skip his barber appointments or his meals. Is everything Thace knew about him a lie? Does he even believe what he is preaching?_

 

"Greetings, Lieutenant Thace," Prorok said with a broad smile. "I am happy to welcome you on board. And stop looking at us with suspicion. Very soon, you will be smiling, too."

 

Everyone around him laughed, even the technicians at their pults, and the Commander didn't silence them.  _ What the Quiznak? Where is their discipline?  _ The whole situation _ w _ as so different from what Thace could expect that Lieutenant couldn't figure out just how to react exactly. Prorok's casual greeting, his looks and way of communicating, the behaviour of his subordinates - what could all this mean?  _ Why didn’t the Blade warn me about this? Why is everyone so happy? Are they celebrating something?  _ Since Thace didn't know how to react to these weird surroundings, he considered it wise to retreat to what was going to be his working quarters and concentrate of his tasks, refraining from most informal personal interactions until he could figure out what was happening. After all, the more insecure he felt, the higher the chances of letting some information slip.

 

His service was not so very different from before, but on a much bigger scale. He was supposed to maintain records, especially financial ones, check reports and claims, supervise deliveries, manage shifts: a work that required precision and attention, a very suitable one for a detail-oriented, thorough Galra like Thace. The problem was that he used to do it alone and for a tiny base with less than two hundred soldiers. Now, he would be responsible for the huge organism of Prorok's numerous ships - many thousands of soldiers and service personnel. He had helpers, of course, but the amount of work was still overwhelming. Moreover, now he had to control and supervise more than working on his own and constantly work with the Commander, so his hope of hiding for a while didn't fulfill itself. He was forced to meet dozens of new people every day, struggling to even remember their names; and he had to become an authority for them! _ Etor would have been the right person here, _ Thace thought on the first evening,  _ he always could frighten people into submission when he wanted to. I should have called him, what if he wanted to return to me now that I have received this promotion? He values comfort and esteem... No, this would be too shameful. _

 

The beginning of his new duty was so busy that Thace hardly had any time to think about the Blade during the day: the machinery and delivery plans in the fleet were different from those on stationary bases, so Thace had to learn a lot on-the-fly and constantly feared that he might forget something. He noted and created memos, classified and separated, but still felt he wasn't good enough. Checking everyone's work also took a good deal of Thace's day, adding to the workload, but, despite his exhaustion, he couldn't help but miss his friends in the evening. His own wish to not be disturbed now played against him, Thace suddenly found himself in a bubble of uncertainty and he couldn’t discuss his optimal next steps with the leader. Heavy thoughts clouded his mind as he lay sleepless at night, covered with an unusually thick blanket in a too silky duvet cover, remembering the time he didn't have to watch his face every second of the day, when he could enjoy open, sincere interactions. With masochist joy, he reminded himself of playful fights with Regris and how the half-Galra would constantly use his tail to distract him, and how after everything was over he would give Thace his hand to help get up and clap him on the back.  _ Now I can’t trust anyone's open hand anymore...  _ He missed battle training among the Blades. Confined to the role of a secretary without any particular battle experience, Thace felt his muscle grow rubbery without proper work, and his joints started cracking faster than he could imagine.

 

During the day, he felt that he failed to perform even a somewhat satisfactory job, so when he brought the first bunch of files to Prorok for check-up after a couple of days, he had the sinking feeling of failure. The Commander seemed content with Thace's work, though, as he huffed with a satisfied expression when he looked through the documents the Lieutenant brought him.

 

"You are not lazy, that's good," the Commander murmured, checking the number of folders and their names. "Now let us see if you made many mistakes."

 

"Well done, lieutenant," he said as he was done verifying Thace's work, and his square face lightened with a broad smile. "Very well indeed. I like your precision and the fact that you didn't forget a single operation. You even handled handled our eon canon correctly, nice. Your next assignment with be to check our suppliers, then start working your way into personnel management systems"

 

_ He sure expects a workload _ , Thace thought, but Prorok's words felt unexpectedly pleasant  and embarrassed him: none of his previous Commanders, neither in the army nor with the Blades, praised him that openly; absence of criticism always meant a praise on its own. He was unsure how to deal with such a shower of gratitude.

 

"I don't think I deserve your kind words," he mumbled, feeling as uncomfortable as if he was scolded. Prorok raised his thick eyebrows.

 

"I give praise where praise is due," he said somewhat surprised. "I hope you are not a kind of man who gets lazy without a whip over his head, otherwise you won't be very effective here. Why don't you think you deserve praise? What concerns you?"

 

Admitting one's weaknesses was the most dangerous thing in the army, but Prorok was looking at Thace with such friendly attention, such sincere interest…

 

"I never had to actually manage someone... I feel like I fail even at being an auditor, something I was taught to do, how do I become an effective leader?"

 

Prorok grinned and pat Thace on the back, startling him.

 

"You are a good auditor, no one expects you to know all the procedures by heart in the first quintant of your service. And the fact that you even think about being a good leader already means you will probably be one, Lieutenant: the bad ones are always very sure of themselves. As for becoming effective... I risk sounding banal, but it comes with experience. Delegate more - you can rely on our soldiers. Try things out and see if they work. I’ve been watching you for a couple of movements now… What you need is more self-esteem, and a little more boldness. It will work itself out, you'll see. Worst case I will just cancel what you ordered, that's why we are doing these reviews."

 

When the Lieutenant closed the doors to his private quarters behind him on that evening, he had to make an effort to wipe the smile off his face.  _ Boldness, huh? Maybe serving here is not that bad after all. Maybe he doesn't need Etor. Maybe Prorok's methods do make sense, even though he is a Commander under Zarkon… _

 

“By the way, lieutenant,” Prorok said, looking into the files Thace brought him after he finished the next assignment, “please prepare two orders and bring them to me for signing. The complete jet service team will get an extra leave, the costs of transportation to and from their destination will be carried by the fleet. And in the second one, fire Ferrik.”

 

“What?” Thace gasped. “But Ferrik is one of the auditors who help me!”

 

“Exactly, and he just tried to use you to cover up for his schemes. Check sums for extraordinary expenses in his area of service and compare them with what the external providers actually delivered… Not with receipts, those can be faked; with what has been registered actually coming through our hubs. You do have the data, correct?

 

Thace scrolled through the data on his pad frantically, while Prorok was looking into it over his shoulder. Filter by area service, compare, get external data, sort, sum… The Lieutenant gasped: the amounts differed more than tenfold. 

 

“I… had no idea...” he murmured, not raising his eyes.  _ What an infamy! How could he overlook this?  _

 

“Yes, this is exactly what I meant. He must have hoped that I will sign these documents without noticing anything.”

 

“I apologize…” Thace managed, ready to sink in the ground with shame. “I should have checked...”

 

“Note that for the future, it is difficult to notice on the first glance... Checking with the data from deliveries is always useful as these people work in shifts and it is difficult to bribe the right one.”

 

“But how did you notice? You didn’t even look into the numbers!”

 

Prorok grinned.

“There are other ways to find out the truth then checking numbers, lieutenant. Ferrik may be somewhat good at devising plans, but he is very bad at hiding his shady affairs. I noticed he started behaving condescending to his comrades, that he bought an expensive shoulder brooch that he claims to be a present from his sister- a soldier on one another base who doesn’t have that kind of money… He sweats when he talks to me! I suspected him for quite some time, but I waited to see if he had connections with the suppliers. Your last report was on them and you seemed to have checked the data thoroughly, so he must be alone after all.”

 

Thace opened and closed his mouth silently, amazed at how proficient Prorok was at understanding people's souls. The Commander didn’t need any official documentation, he knew exactly which of his subordinates needed what, who was trustworthy  and which buttons he had to push to make everyone work efficiently. With a surge of shame, Thace felt that couldn't help but start to admire his chief.


	3. Chapter 3

With such an unconventional leader, Thace expected the fleet to be in a disarray, but he was mistaken. He found out that his new service line reported the least casualties, both on and off duty, longest usage of the equipment, and had near perfect ranking according to effectivity KPIs. Despite the fact that vast parts of documentation was neglected, Prorok turned out to be the most effective Commander he served under during his whole career! Working here, with all the different tasks and challenges, awoke Thace's interest. The fleet was currently out of the expansion phase and in exploration. This meant little to no battling and more integrating the newly conquered worlds into the empire. Prorok’s soldiers didn’t have to face any organized resistance, and the empire had effective tactics against guerrilla wars, so currently everyone was either repairing or training, preparing for future conquests, or exploring what the new worlds could offer the empire and how to use their resources in the optimal way. Prorok was flying to and fro from one planet to another, figuring out where fear was needed to accelerate work and where planning would suffice.

 

Thace stayed back on the flagship and had to consolidate the numerous reports from every ship and battlestation, Prorok’s personal notes and plans that arrived almost every varga, orders from the central command and messages from local governments of the new worlds in order provide the Commander with prompt information. It was a challenging task, but also a very rewarding one, especially with Prorok’s manner of active praising. He felt that his abilities were appreciated and he could show what he could really do, instead of constantly hiding and trying to avoid being noticed. Now he and Prorok maintained such a close connection that he knew what the Commander was doing almost by dobosh - a rare and valuable sign of trust for a newly appointed officer.

 

Slowly, the Lieutenant got accommodated to his new surroundings and felt secure enough to stick his nose out more and started interacting more with officers he wasn't directly connected by his work. He felt that as a spy, he needed to have the largest network of contacts and allies possible. He started off under the pretense of compiling complaints to generate a cumulative report for Prorok. In general, he found less feuds in the air than he was used to, less wish to destroy each other, less suspicion. Soldiers ran around with content faces, no one looked sick or miserable. The Lieutenant met other officers: ace pilot Hakor, small and wiry, her hair shaved on the temples and gathered in a ponytail, jumpy and easily irritated; head of medical services Ellik, so old that most of his fur was silvered, but still with razor-sharp eyes and tongue; phlegmatic subCommander Yilvik, responsible for the machinery, always seemingly half-asleep and yet able to notice every slightest detail from under his heavy eyelids. The one thing that united them was their reaction to Thace's question if they lacked something.

 

"I flew all kind of trashcans!" Hakor yelled at Thace, her face dark purple with rage. "Here I can finally pilot something decent for a change!  You milksop have no idea what lacking even means!"

 

Thace considered it wise to let the "milksop" slip for the time being, even though he felt like grabbing her by the collar and explaining a thing or two about judging people based on their age.

 

Ellik giggled quietly, rubbing his thumbs at each other.

 

"Young man, a doctor can never have enough for his patients, but I wouldn't complain."

 

Thace left his office with a new vaccine injection, a massage roller for his neck, a promotional pack of chewing gum and the feeling that the doctor treated everyone on the ship as if they were his grandchildren.

 

"No," Yilvik answered shortly and slid his eyelids down again, leaning back in his chair in front of a wall of monitors. Thace didn't dare to ask what the lines on the charts meant and just left the introverted subCommander to his thoughts.

 

This was unheard of - either of the officers couldn't find a lack of something? Even the canon team didn't complain about delays with deliveries of lubricant oils, a thing Thace never witnessed in his life! Prorok’s optimism seemed to be transferred to his subordinates, but it wasn't just that. Meals in the soldier canteen were even  tastier than what he ate when he was invited to his previous Captain's birthday. Everyone was equipped with the newest communicators. _This is Prorok's secret,_ Thace realized. _He is proficient in organizing a good, comfortable life for himself and his subordinates._ Serving on his ships was easy - if you ate well, slept tight and your shoes fit you nicely, then of course you'd make less mistakes! And, naturally, people wanted to stay here, so Prorok had the luxury to choose the best among officers, ready to make his fleet triumphant. _This is the reason why none of his subordinates are ready to sell the information about their fleet and their Commander!_ _Weird,_ Thace thought. _Both Zarkon and the Blade talk so much about devotion and battle spirit of an ideal soldier, but in the end, all this soldier needs is good food and enough materials..._

 

Prorok's praises made Thace happier than they should have: the Lieutenant burnt with the urge to show off his abilities. In addition to his daily duties, he reorganized the storage for old folders with personal files, founded an internal financial audit to avoid cases like Ferrik’s in the future and started testing grounds with the central bureaucracy about transferring digital documentation on a newer platform. Each time he came to the Prorok with a new suggestion, somewhere deep inside, he still expected a reprimand for sticking his nose too far into commanding privileges, but, to his amazement the Commander met all his initiatives with an interested huff and allowed him to act. 

 

Despite his short time of service, Thace started feeling more and more invested into his new workplace, the fleet felt amazingly like home to him.  Although the Lieutenant felt uneasy, bathing in all the luxury, with so many resources provided for his every wish while he knew other Blade’s had mere scraps in comparison, he still felt strangely in place. Sad thoughts about being separated from his friends faded, he was proud of his obvious usefulness, his days were far too short for everything he intended to do and his life had a meaning!

 

Unlike most Commanders, Prorok spent a lot of time with the doctors - Ellik and other surgeons so Thace always went to the medical bay if he didn’t find the Commander on the bridge. In the Galran army, doctors were normally simultaneously feared (they had the power to decide who would live or die) and looked down upon (they didn’t fight and were the most prone to scowl at aggressive strategies). Prorok seemed to like Ellik personally, like he did most of the entire crew, but he also treated the medics more like usual soldiers, not some kind of internal aliens. They showed up in the training decks, ate together with everyone in the same canteens and stood with everyone else during official announcements, not together in the corner, as was usual in other fleets. From Thace’s point of view, this made them lose a good deal of their usual mysterious aura and added to their workload, but they seemed to be content with the situation. Maybe one reason was that Prorok managed to find money to fund their research projects? Ellik alone managed to publish three articles in the last year: this meant he had both time and resources left over from his duties.

 

Thace started socializing more with other officers, spending evenings in the saloon rather in his private quarters.  The Commander rarely appeared there but all the others crowded the round room regularly. Thace was ranked lower than most of the others, but his position as Prorok's right hand gave him more opportunities than a usual Lieutenant could hope for. He found none of the anticipated cruelty among the officers: their talks were mundane and revolved mostly around vacations or offspring, unless there was a battle training simulation outstanding. Hakor, despite looking relatively young, turned out to be a mother of two adolescent sons who lived with their father on an agricultural world; she would constantly brag about their achievements to anyone who would listen. Most often the patient listener was Ellik, who himself had at least a dozen grandchildren and grand-nephews and found special pleasure in watching videos of cubs. Yilvik turned out to be unexpectedly good at chess, and Thace truly enjoyed their silent afternoon battles, even if he lost many of them.

 

"At last! You found yourself a worthy opponent and stopped harassing your engineers into playing with you," Hakor noted one evening, sipping her drink and looking over to the board. Thace felt the smell of machine oil, hair gel and chewing tar coming from her when she leaned over towards them.

 

Yilvik shifted in his chair.

"At least I don't attempt to kill myself by getting run over with a transport cart every time the Commander leaves the flagship," he answered in his usual emotionless voice. “And I don't chew this stinky abomination.” 

 

Hakor frowned in simulated rage.

"You obviously know nothing about fun, then!"

 

Thace gasped quietly: both fraternizing with lower ranks and transport cart races were illegal.

 

"How do you talk about it so openly? What if someone hears you and reports to the Commander?" he asked in amazement.

 

Hakor and Yilvik grinned and exchanged glances.

 

"Bo-oy!" Hakor said. "Such a boy."

 

"Who will tell on us?" Yilvik added. "We don't have traitors."

 

"Not a single one?" Thace asked sarcastically. "What about me? You hardly know me. Maybe I'll tell on you."

 

"Commander trusts you," Hakor said seriously. "And we trust his judgement. Plus even if you do tell on us, he will probably kick you out rather than forbid all of us our little pastimes."

 

"So he knows what you are doing?"

 

"Of course he does," Hakor giggled, leaning back. "We are allowed to do what we want as long as we can provide exceptional service. We are a bit like a family here: Commander Prorok knows when to close his eyes, and when to keep them widely open."

 

_ Too bad I can't belong to the chosen ones under his protection, _ Thace thought with an unexpected ache in his heart.  _ Too bad I can not a part of the family.  _ At the same time, he felt guilty for mentally abandoning his comrades from the Blade, for wanting to belong to the enemy, for indulging in this chit chat while he could have been doing something useful.

 

“Don’t relax too much, though,”Yilvik added, opening his eyes slightly more and staring directly at Thace. “Our Commander can’t stand any lack of competence or motivation, and we are all supposed to bring in valuable suggestions. Not that it applies to you, but your predecessor was kicked out for saying yes too often and not doing enough.”

 

Hakor giggled again.

“Yes, our Commander was not as fuzzy-wuzzy with him as he is with you!”

 

“That’s enough!” Yilvik cut her off and even straightened himself in his armchair - an unusual sign of anger for him. “You are forgetting yourself!”

 

Hakor rolled her eyes.

“I’m just saying the truth. Too bad some people can't handle it!”

 

Thace was unable to contain a giggle at the “fuzzy-wuzzy” term while the two other officers stared angrily at each other.  _ So when working with him, I used the right strategy from the beginning, not even knowing it. Or rather my natural strategy was the the right one… Or  did he guess what my natural strategy was and encourage it? _

 

“Did he yell at you yet?” Hakor asked after she decided that she has done enough staring, tearing the Lieutenant out of his thoughts. Thace jumped a little.

 

“What? No, he didn't…” he was unsure how much of the communication with the Commander he could discuss openly. “Why would he?”

 

“Of course he didn’t, _ ”  _ Yilvik answered for Thace. “Thace is really good with all this bureaucratic business, I bet the Commander is ecstatic to have such an assistant. He hates paperwork.”

 

Hakor eyed Thace and nodded in agreement.

  
  


“I don't mean to be disrespectful," Thace said the next day to Prorok, "but I noticed that your leadership style is... unconventional... I never experienced higher officers praise their subordinates they way you do, give them so much freedom.. Isn't it detrimental for the discipline?”

 

The question was very bold, borderline rude. Prorok could explode with anger and he would be right to do so. However, as often when speaking to Thace, he just smiled.

 

“Nice of you to point that out, Lieutenant Thace, but praise is not what differs us from other fleets. Here, we remember that we are Galra above everything else. We are all brothers and sisters, Lieutenant, from the youngest cadet to the Commander, and we stick together. We are too few and every alien who surrounds us wants to destroy us! I will praise my subordinates and acknowledge their achievements, I will allow them certain freedoms... Because if I don't do it, someone else will. Someone else whose intentions I don't trust! When we will be out there, battling, I want to ensure that my people do their best, are loyal to me instead of fleeing to the rebels!.“

 

_ Prorok's speech was so close to Blade of Marmora philosophy... This was exactly what Kolivan told new recruits after the initiation. "We are brothers, and out there, everyone is ready to kill us." How could it be that the very same idea could flourish in the heart of the empire and among its most adamant foes? _

 

"I see," Thace murmured, because he had to answer something. "Your subordinates do seem happy about that. Doesn't the emperor mind?"

 

Prorok frowned.

 

"The emperor is happy that the fleet is doing a good job," he said sternly. "Moreover, he - like many in the higher command, is worried about the declining numbers of Galra in relation to alien species in the empire. My approach is an experimental one, if it goes well, then it might be adopted empire-wide."

 

Thace served in the Galran army long enough to understand what Commander meant: “I am allowed to walk along the rope as long as I manage to hold my balance while being poked from both sides; if I sway, no one shall catch me”. Why did Thace's heart contract with compassion and worry for the Commander he wasn’t supposed to be invested in?


	4. Chapter 4

One evening, a couple quintants after Thace has arrived, Commander Prorok invited him in his private quarters. This was unusual: fraternizing was one of the worst crimes a Commander could commit, so higher officers rarely allowed lower ones into their private apartments.

"I have received a file yesterday, Lieutenant Thace," Prorok said, when Thace entered and usual greetings have been spoken.

 

He stopped, so Thace nodded politely. The Blade had highest security standards, and his military record was flawless, so Thace was confident of himself.  _ Whatever Prorok received, it was probably about somebody else and he wants the new subordinate's opinion _ . Prorok frowned and turned towards the holo-terminal, pressed the button, and Thace suddenly seemed to go out of air. On screen, he was about to get in bed with Etor.

 

Red and violet spots flowed in front of Thace's eyes as he watched the video, breathless and mute with horror. Thace on screen kissed Etor passionately and slid his hands under the man's jacket, traced them down until where the other man's scaly tail started; then they both fell onto the bed. The angle of the camera seemed weird, as if someone was filming from above. _ The toy _ , Thace thought, his knees weak with shock.  _ He had a plush yapper on his shelves. The angle would be exactly the same _ ! The action on screen got more and more indecent, and Thace watched his own backside, feeling condemned to death. The video must be old, he and Etor broke up years ago, but seeing him still woke up an old pain in Thace's heart.

 

Prorok sighed and stopped the video in the middle. Thace didn't dare to look him in eye, so he started examining the floor instead.  _ Etor, you asshole, what have I done to you? What do you plan on receiving for this treason? _

 

"Partaking in an unnatural intercourse. Fraternizing with a subordinate," Commander Prorok said with a strange expression. "Coupling with an alien... half-alien, but that won't help you much. Inappropriate use of the official position, most certainly. What can you say about it, lieutenant?"

 

Thace kept his silence, trying not to suffocate with horror and rage at Etor. Shame and shock  made him open and close his mouth without uttering a word. Nothing he might say would save him. He knew this moment would come, he just never expected it to be so soon. Commander Prorok waited a couple ticks and sighed again.

 

"Immediate dismissal is the lightest fate you will suffer if I move the case, and it probably won't end so easily.  _ If _ I move the case, that is."

 

Thace gasped and looked up. Can it be? The Commander swiped the video away, pressed the red button. The icon blinked and animated turning into ashes. The Commander's face showed no disgust, only sadness and compassion.

 

"You should be more careful when choosing your partners, lieutenant. Who else could he have sent the file to?"

 

Thace suddenly felt dizzy and had to grab the table to stand properly. First: seemingly imminent failure, then this miraculous salvation - this was too much.

 

"Why?" he managed. Prorok frowned.

 

"The fleet has the unofficial "don't ask don't tell" policy for a reason. I will not lose a gifted officer because of some bastard's wish to be raised in ranks through deception. It is your business what race you sleep with with as long as you do a good job. Now pull yourself together and think who else he could have sent this video to. If he has other connections in highest command, we are in big trouble: you for doing  what you did, I for not escalating the case."

 

"No, Commander, I don't think he does," Thace exhaled. "He served as a secretary in the garrison where I was situated five decaphoebs ago. He has neither important relatives nor money, but he did really want to make a career."

 

"Then how did he manage to find out my coordinates?"

 

"This is my fault. I told him my identification number and didn't order an anonymization procedure when I was transferred from there. I didn't think it was necessary, but now he still has access to my data, and he knows where I was relocated to."

 

Prorok shook his head.

 

"You didn't go through anonymization, fully aware that your alien ex-lover knows your id? That he can basically do whatever he pleases with your record? Where was your brain? I will order you a full anonymization right away!"

 

Thace felt his cheeks start to burn at this reprimand, but he also knew that Prorok was right.

 

"He is only half-alien… but I was being careless."

 

_ I loved him _ , Thace wanted to say _. I trusted him. I even hoped he might join the Blade, being a half-blood... How could I know he would such a thing? _ Instead, he swallowed and looked at the wall. Prorok seemed to understand, though.

 

"He didn't seem to love you that much," he said. "Or have a decent character, for that matter. Who else can know about your relationship with them, Thace? Who could have inspired him to sabotage your career? Think and tell me the truth."

 

“I don’t even know what exactly he wants to achieve with this… I mean, it hurts me, but how does it benefit him?” Thace murmured. Prorok smirked.

 

“If this video launches an investigation against a member of central command, then this Etor is suddenly not a miserable half-breed, a byproduct of the deviant lust of a weaker Galra, but a valuable member of the society. He helped to identify a weak link in the chain of command, after all. Properly used, this single deception could give him more opportunities than ten years of excellent service.“

 

Prorok curled his lips in a loathing expression as he looked back at the screen, as if the video was still there.

 

“Are you sure that you didn’t offend him somehow?” 

 

Thace shook his head.

 

"No, actually... he left me... found someone else. But we remained friends! Or at least I thought we did..."

 

“Disgusting behaviour, but what else could you expect from an alien? Treason is their middle name... Go now, lay low and don’t do anything for now. I will take care of this problem. And, for Quiznak’s sake, don’t create any more such situations! Try to think with you head instead of your... other body parts... when you choose your partners!”

 

Prorok didn’t talk to Thace about the video any more, and the Lieutenant didn’t dare ask him what has happened out of it. Several weeks later, endless weeks of uncertainty and fear, he found an unusual note in his daily correspondence, an extract from an employee table. Etor has been dismissed from the military after being accused of waste. The note contained no further information, but Thace knew exactly who did this.

 

"I can't express my gratitude, Commander," he said when he saw Prorok the next time.

 

"I don't know what you are talking about, lieutenant," Prorok answered, and Thace was twice as thankful to him for this discretion.

 

This embarrassing incident broke a wall in Thace's mistrust towards Prorok and started something like a friendship between the Lieutenant and his Commander: Prorok started inviting Thace for afternoon hot juice and cookies into the main cockpit. Thace always took with him the files that Prorok might have been interested in, but shortly after the second cup, the folders would be forgotten and the conversation would wander off somewhere. Despite their age difference, the gap in their social status and, as it turned out, strikingly different social background, Thace found it pleasant to talk to Prorok about simple, mundane things. The Commander's optimism and vibrant energy felt refreshing to him: Prorok was very sure of his actions in every situation, and he was absolutely convinced that every obstacle can be overcome. Sometimes Thace wondered how he could keep such high spirits, when Thace himself, fifteen years younger, sometimes felt like a cranky old man. Thace relaxed around Prorok, the anxiety, the constant tension disappeared, leaving a pleasant emptiness in his chest.

 

Having this closer contact let Thace notice many other personal traits of the Commander. Prorok ate a lot of sweets, was a late sleeper, preferred spending most of his day on a couch but mostly had no time to even sit down, read dozens of reports and messages daily but only answered a few and worked in bursts followed by lazy periods rather than monotonously, like Thace. He was naturally a quick thinker and had a brilliant memory that stored every one of Zarkon’s orders, names of soldiers on his ships together with their character traits and every battle plan; he learned new information by inserting it in the seemingly endless net of associations that was stored in his mind. This ‘over-the-top’ way of processing information made him able to recognize patterns in unrelated events, but made him forget little details. Thace’s initial impression that the Commander wasn’t objective was wrong, as Prorok turned out to be one of the most logical people the Lieutenant worked with (provided with enough food, of course).

 

For the first time, Thace also fully realized just how ambitious Prorok was. Thace would listen to his chief talking about his vision for the fleet, sometimes even forgetting to chew his cookies: Prorok's aim was to substitute the function of local planetary bureaucracy and silently reassign it to the military. Although it wasn't spoken out directly, Prorok's ambition was clear: this way, a Commander of a fleet became a king in his sector, unifying both military and bureaucratic functions. Prorok would not stop before everything to achieve his goals, and Thace only shook his head in amazement when listening to all the intricate ways the Commander used to get what he wanted and silently marveled his persistence of a wrecking ball.  The Lieutenant listened attentively, feeling fascinated and just a little jealous.

 

_ How amazing would it be to have such an ally _ , Thace thought.  _ How much good could he have done if he only knew about the Blade, how many lives could this passionate energy of his save! He is not like his image on the outside at all, he would be such an asset for all of us… Maybe if he was in the Blade, we could spend more time together, without this constant memory about the difference in ranks and . Like equals. Maybe even like friends... _

 

And yet Prorok wasn’t an infallible hero like many in the higher command liked to picture themselves. He was persistent to a degree of obstinacy in areas that mattered for him and amazingly negligent everywhere else. He would spend vargas talking to some lowly soldier or technician about what bothered them, training his speeches or personally creating economic plans for the newly conquered worlds, and then fly over the whole pile of documents Thace so carefully checked and arranged in half a varga. Thace couldn’t help but notice Commander’s obvious laziness when it came to papers, his tendency for high-handed decisions rather than sticking to the procedure, his all too strong reliance on Yilvik’s opinion in engineering questions and his disdain for reviews of troops, although those were considered an important part of Commander’s service. Thace found the latter even endearing, especially by contrast with the usual imperial obsession with drilling and parades, and Yilvik was a true genius in his field, but the first one concerned him very much. The Lieutenant knew all too well the power of bureaucracy, and he felt worried that the Commander might harm himself with his ignorance.

 

“Sir, the deadline for sending in solder review forms is less than in a quintant and you haven’t even started it, although this is something you are supposed to do yourself, without my assistance,” Thace said one evening, pushing the folder towards the Commander. “And, I hate to remind you, but you dismissed Vark from the engineering without a proper procedure, so we need to file a report about this; I need your input as to what to write.”

 

Prorok groaned and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

 

“Goodness, soldier reviews, is it that time of the year already? Listen, lieutenant, can’t we reuse the form from last year?”

 

“Yes we can, but the review itself has to be new.”

 

Prorok uttered a new groan and tugged on his sideburns, but said nothing. Thace suppressed an unexpected urge to hug him and promise that he would take care of all the problems.

 

“Commander, I know exactly that you know everyone in your fleet by heart, their strengths and weaknesses lie ready in your head. Why don’t you just put it to paper, why is it even such a problem?”

 

Prorok sighed.

“But it is boring, lieutenant. It is useless! I am the Commander, I make decisions as to who stays in the fleet and who goes, and I don’t need these miserable notes to make up my mind! It takes time that I could have invested in something else... And then I always end up saving something in the wrong folder and have to search for it again and again!”

 

Now Thace couldn’t help but smile.

 

“Is it really because of such trivia like saving files to the right directory? What if we do it together from your account? You can dictate me what to write and I will make sure you will save everything to the correct folders and don’t forget anything.”

 

“Oh lieutenant,” Prorok beamed up with joy, “You are truly an asset!”

 

The Commander’s sincere gratitude felt all too sweet for Thace’s ears, and he pulled the info terminal towards himself maybe a little too eagerly, in order to hide his joy.  _ With all that power of will, charisma and adorableness, how can it be that the Commander doesn’t have a family? _


	5. Chapter 5

"I was born on Nei-Kari."

 

Thace struggled to remember the name  and, to his horror, he failed. This was embarrassing - the Lieutenant had always been proud of his extensive knowledge of geography, and now it failed him. Prorok watched him with an amused expression, then pushed the dish with cookies closer towards Thace.

 

"Don't exert yourself, that world hasn’t existed for a long time; every mention of it has been erased from official imperial maps.”

 

"What do you mean it doesn't exist?" Thace exclaimed in astonishment. Prorok writhed a little, shifting his drink from one hand into another.

 

"It is not a happy story. The planet and all of its inhabitants were wiped out of existence upon the Emperor's orders after rebellious locals have murdered every Galra on the planet in a mad riot. Now it is but a lifeless asteroid cloud, if some weblum hadn’t eaten it by now."

 

Thace opened and closed his mouth. _ Incredible. There were only a handful of such exterminations in the whole history of the Galra empire! And that I still didn’t hear anything about Nei-Kari? _

“What happened?”

 

“Nei-Kari was an icy mountain world, inhabited by locals who weren’t even out of the tribal phase in their civilizations development yet. They were mostly nomadic, roaming the planet in search for better conditions with these giant wooly bulls that served them both as transport and meat source. Nei-Kari was not a very welcoming place and the locals were entirely useless, but the planet had deposits of several rare minerals, so the empire built an outpost there, and my parents were among those who were relocated to it.”

 

_ They were either caught in criminal activity, angered their Commander, or were very poo _ r and unlucky, Thace thought.  _ Relocation to such outposts is always a punishment of some sort. Anyhow, having such parents can be considered one of the lowest social class in the empire, only half-Galra would be ranked lower. For a man of such miserable background, making this kind of  a stunning military career and landing in the highest command is ten times as hard as for anyone else... _

 

“We tried to educate the locals, turn them to settling down, but they repaid us with the blackest ingratitude. We were gathered in towns, an easy target, so one night they came and wiped us out completely, not sparing anyone.”

 

"How did you survive?"

 

Prorok smiled with his mouth, but his eyes remained bitter.

"I was on an excursion to a battle station with my classmates. I was seven, just starting schooling, so they decided to show us what the empire really looks like, to take us out of our tiny world. We were the only survivors - every single Galra who remained on the surface of the planet was murdered. When the emperor heard about it, he didn’t bother finding exact culprits. As soon as it became clear that none of our kind survived, he ordered an orbit bombardment, turning every single rebel to ashes and dust."

 

Thace shivered: the solution sounded every bit Zarkon as it could. He imagined the locals, dying before they could even understand what hit them, but then he imagined schoolchildren being told that their families are no more. He looked around the room, trying to find words of consolation for Prorok, but, as usual in times of high emotional intensity, he failed to gather his thoughts. Questions clouded his mind instead.

 

"So your family..." he started.

 

"Yes," Prorok interrupted him. "All of them, even my younger sister, who was still a baby."

 

"I am so sorry...." Thace murmured, but his words felt empty and senseless.

 

"Don't be, lieutenant, it was a very long time ago.” Prorok answered. “Moreover, as cruel as it seems, this was my chance. My parents couldn’t afford to send me into a good school, but the tragedy opened me a way into the best military academy, and, more importantly, it showed me the reality of life. If I had stayed on Nei-Kari, I could have been a bull herder by now. A life not so very different from those of the senseless brutes who surrounded us.

You know, before that day, I sympathized with the locals, I ran off to look at them almost every day, despite my mother’s protests! I truly liked some of them… Never do that, lieutenant! I learned my lesson the hardest way there is, don’t repeat the mistakes of my parents and our Commanders. Never trust an alien…“

 

"But why? Why would they do such a terrible thing?" Thace exclaimed, horrified by the Commander’s tale.

 

Prorok slammed his fist on the armrest.

"Because this is their nature, lieutenant! Because they are not Galra! They didn’t need a “why” to start killing! They didn't know honour, they had no thankfulness, mercy was lost with them! The second they felt the boot tremble on their throat, they acted up!"

 

Thace was torn apart by compassion towards Prorok and anger at his cruel words.

"No, this is not true!” he exclaimed. “Not every alien is like that!"

 

"What do you even know?” Prorok hissed, leaning closer in. “You were raised on a civilized planet, among fellow Galra. Your parents were faithful servants to the empire, rewarded with wealth and peaceful life among their kind.  Did you even meet any aliens before your scaly tailed “friend”? Have you even seen the true nature of these beasts?"

 

_ I met more aliens than you could ever imagine, _ Thace wanted to say, but instead he just averted his eyes, unwilling to start an argument. The transformation that happened to Prorok was terrifying: his yellow eyes burnt with hatred, his breath became ragged. The question was, of course, too personal for him, so Thace decided to back down. There was something wrong with the Commander's answers, though, Thace could feel it. For several days he couldn't quite figure what was it, but also could not shake it out of his head. Finally, he gave up, sat down at the info terminal and entered his new high-security access code.

 

There were no mentions of Nei-Kari in the open info sources, but when he entered access-secured databases, he immediately found quite a lot of data, and what he read made fur on his neck rise in rage. On the surface, what the Commander said was true. There had been mineral ores on Nei-Kari, and there were primitive nomadic tribes inhabiting it. But that superficial truth hid a terrible second layer: Nei-Kari had been turned into a huge concentration camp, organized and run by the high priestess Haggar. Native Neikarians' resilience and ability to survive in extremely cold climate was due to their innate ability to harvest quintessence from external sources.

 

When Haggar found that out, great forces have been sent to Nei-Kari. Almost every native inhabitant was confined to certain living areas where they were experimented on, starved and tortured to find out the limits of their resilience. There was not much documentation left on the reason of the research, but Thace got a feeling that the druids wanted to conduct some sort of eugenics on Galra, to give them Neikarian ability to process quintessence... Judging from archive photos, in the process of their research, the Galra treated their alien subjects worse than animals: Thace saw people in ragged clothes, some of them emaciated to a degree when it was impossible to tell males and females apart, terrifying body parts hanged on hooks for a display, empty eyes and black hands... Thace logged out and closed his eyes.

 

_ I liked the locals... I ran off to see them... _ Was Prorok blind? Didn't he see what happened there? Unable to tolerate the uncertainty, Thace headed towards the main bridge, but the Commander caught him in the middle of the way.

"My quarters, this instant!" he snarled.

 

Thace followed him: he never saw the Commander that intimidating.  _ He wasn't all that fuzzy-wuzzy with your predecessor... _ As soon as the door behind them closed, Prorok turned to Thace and grabbed him by the collar, making him bend down as if bowing.

 

"Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, lieutenant?" he hissed. "What the Quiznak did you want to find there?"

 

Thace was very angry, too.

"Are you an idiot or a liar?" he snapped into Commander's face, straightening forcefully. "Ran off to look at the locals and never noticed that the planet was a giant concentration camp?! No wonder they rebelled, they had no other choice!"

 

"Shut up! You never saw it!" Prorok was out of himself, but Thace was too enraged to feel afraid. Now he grabbed Prorok by the uniform and shook him, using the advantage of his height.

 

"I saw more than enough!" he yelled. "We experimented on them as if they were animals! We starved them to death!"

 

"This was a state necessity!" Prorok pushed Thace away. "We offered them education and medicine, but all they wanted was to wail in the mud they came from!"

 

"How were they supposed to trust our medicine if we experimented on them alive? The druids made their lives worse than death!"

 

Prorok opened his mouth to say something, and at this moment, the big communication panel in the back of the room went alive. Before Thace could understand anything, Prorok pushed him on the shoulder with his whole strength, making the Lieutenant drop on one knee, made a step forward and knelt, too. Everything happened within a second, and just in time before the communication started.

 

"Refreshing your childhood memories, Prorok?"

 

The cold, low voice made Thace bow his head and gasp for air as if a lasso was tightened around his neck. Zarkon.  _ Zarkon traced his requests and he has come for him _ . _ What if the monster and his companion already know about the Blade? _ Thace bent his head so low that the emperor could only see his ears, his thoughts in disarray.  _ What to do? Run? He would be apprehended after the next corner. Now Prorok was going to say that he didn't know anything about Thace's research, and then he would be done for. Just why does the monster address Prorok, as if Commander was the one searching for the data? Could it be that all requests exit the internal fleet network as a single entity, not bound to the one who made them?  _ But Thace had no time to think this over properly.

 

"Yes, Sire, in a way I did," Prorok said, his voice respectful but calm.

 

A wave of heat rushed over Thace.  _ This cannot be true. He cannot be doing it! Saving me at the risk for his own career for the second time? _

 

"Behind me is Lieutenant Thace, my newly-chosen assistant. The young man, despite his obvious talents, is very naive in some questions. He has been born and raised on blessed, Galra-inhabited planets. He needed a little lesson on what aliens truly are, so I was audacious enough to show him what happened of my native world."

 

Thace felt the emperor's endless heavy gaze on his back.

"You never introduced him to me," the monster said finally.

 

"I wanted to test him some more on my own before bothering you with introductions, my Lord," Prorok answered matter-of-factly.

 

The emperor uttered a dry laugh.

"You consider him too unpredictable to introduce him to me, and yet you show him state secrets? Are you stupid or treacherous?"

 

Thace couldn't help but shiver, but Prorok remained unaffected.

"Neither, Sire. If the young man will serve here, he will inevitably have access to many kinds of state secrets. Better to be sure of his loyalty now than than to suffer later."

 

The emperor chuckled and shut the connection off. For several ticks, neither Prorok nor Thace moved, then the Commander got up slowly and walked towards Thace, who was still kneeling on the floor.

 

"Thank you," Thace whispered, raising his head. "How can I ever..."

 

"Get the hell out of here," Prorok said quietly, and Thace noticed his fingers shaking. "You have cost me enough trouble for one soldier."


	6. Chapter 6

After the emperor's call, Prorok grew cold and stopped inviting Thace for an evening drinks and chitchat; all Thace's attempts to apologize and make up for the trouble he caused were faced with stone-cold rejection. Thace had to give the Commander credit, he didn't transfer his offense to work, but his coldness weighed on Thace’s mind constantly. The Lieutenant understood just how important Prorok's subtle friendly gestures have become for him. Without the Commander's reassuring smile and without contact to his friends, Thace felt like he was suffocating with loneliness, he hadn’t realised how much Prorok's optimistic remarks had lifted his spirits.  The force of this longing for contact with a supposed enemy amazed and scared Thace, he hadn't realized how deeply he was invested in this seemingly casual connection.

 

Thace tried to talk himself out of this feeling. _ Prorok is among Zarkon's closest advisors, he is an enemy, _ he told himself, trying to ease this emptiness in his chest.  _ He does believe in what he preaches on the television. He condones genocide! This man is a war criminal, just like his emperor and his other fellow Commanders. If the vision that Blade holds ever comes true, this man would have to be judged by a tribunal and will most surely be found guilty. _

 

" _ But he was just a child _ ," a small voice at the back of Thace's head whispered. " _ He was a little, scared boy who lost his family overnight and  had to fight for survival completely alone. For him, admitting that Neikarian uprising was an act of misery would feel as if he betrayed the memory his dead parents and friends. He can't bear having compassion for the aliens because his whole life has been a fight in attempt to compensate for the loss that he suffered from them, so he dedicated himself to the Galra empire. His very being is centered around being a Galra despite everything else - an orphan, a son of lowliest servants, a northerner. Of course he is biased towards aliens! What difference does it make for him, him personally, that someone from his race oppressed these murderers? _ "

 

_ But he is not a small boy anymore, _ Thace thought.  _ He is an adult, he saw everything I saw in the archives, he knows exactly what the situation was. He chooses to stick to his hatred, because otherwise he would have to question his loyalty to Zarkon and the empire. _

 

" _ Does one ever stop being the small boy? _ " the voice asked. " _ What would you think if you found out that your brothers were torn apart by the raging crowd? They are also Galra, and each Galra is an oppressor to a certain degree. Would you applaud their murderers? _ "

 

Thace knew he wouldn't. He also knew he hurt Prorok and made him feel betrayed, and this thought was killing him. Thace tried to take his mind off the Commander, thinking about the good old times with the Blades, but to his horror, he felt that it wasn't them who he truly needed anymore. Of course, no one around noticed Thace’s distress, lifelong impersonation training borne its fruits, but somewhere deep inside, Thace almost wished for himself to make a mistake. He needed someone to notice what he felt, give him any kind of friendly advice, but all he got was silence around him and the voice of his own longing, screaming constantly in his head. In his desperation, Thace even though about contacting Kolivan, but the leader still hadn't provided him with the promised safe way of communication and Thace knew he couldn't compromise his position just for his emotions, without an actual cause.

 

The Commander seemed unaffected by this strife, and Thace felt bitterly jealous of him.  _ Of course _ , the Lieutenant thought,  _ with his huge social circle he can just cut me off like I never existed…  _ Now every time Thace saw Prorok disappear in the medical quarters, whistling in anticipation of hot rum and medical anecdotes, Thace wanted to strangle Ellik for getting so much of his attention. Whenever Thace came in and found that Prorok would call Yilvik and listen attentively to complaints the subCommander had (and he usually had plenty, but only for Prorok), the Lieutenant had to keep himself from slamming the communicator on the ground. In attempt to clear his inner vision, Thace started frequenting the training deck more often. Before, he avoided showing his fighting skills, because it could raise question as of where a secretary has learned all the deadly techniques. Now, however, he felt the need to take the weight off his chest at any cost, because otherwise he risked getting unstable and compromising the mission. Prorok's fleet was perfectly equipped in every aspect that might help the soldiers, so the training deck wasn't just an empty space to spar like it was with the Blades. It offered the widest range of weapons, from jagged Puigian spears to heavy maces made by the highest quality standards of the old Daibazaal, and a variety of training simulations that amazed even Thace, who thought he knew everything there was to know about battling.  Sparring was one of the cases when military rank didn't matter, so Thace quickly got himself a whole bunch of willing partners among the younger members of assault teams. He felt more at ease around the soldiers, because they were less aware of the subtleties of psychology then their higher-ranked counterparts. They attacked him with swords and staffs, and Thace finally felt free, giving in to the battle instinct and forgetting the world outside of the circle of his vision.

 

That evening, he had to stay much longer after his shift ended to finish formalizing all Prorok’s orders for tomorrow, so when he came to the training deck, it was already empty. Thace sighed and looked around himself: fighting the shadow was much less fun than sparring with an actual partner. With a surge of joy, he noticed that one of the training grounds was still lit: the swamp ground simulation. It was Thace's least favourite one, because the sticky mud always impaired his agility, his greatest asset in battle, but better that than nothing. He quickly changed into the simulation suit, clicked the helmet closed on his head and entered the training ground. His opponent was fighting a simulated monster, a huge thing with razor-sharp claws, but when Thace entered, the beast vanished and the Galra turned towards the lieutenant. He was shorter than Thace and sturdily built, and he was holding a blade staff that ended with two knives on both ends. His face was also covered with a helmet, so Thace didn't know who he would be fighting. He briefly remembered the soldiers who came regularly and decided this was Safk from the second assault division. He was a worthy opponent, but nothing immensely challenging.

 

The other Galra grabbed his weapon more firmly and attacked. Dodging the first swing of the staff, Thace already realized that it wasn't Safk the he was battling; that one was on the fatter side and preferred avoiding direct attacks to exhaust the opponent first. This one was different: the second aggressive swing followed the first one immediately, and Thace had to dodge again.  _ Wow, an eager one. And an experienced. But also heavy, like Safk, so they’ll soon tire if they continue like this. _ Thace would have danced around him to play for time, but the suit simulated mud by increasing weights on his feet, and Thace understood that he had to act fast if he wanted to succeed. He jumped back and swooshed around his opponent, then attacked from the side. This was his signature move, but the other managed to lead the hit away with the handle of his spear. Still, now Thace had the advantage of higher ground. The Lieutenant struck his opponent hard, aiming for the chest and putting his whole body’s weight into the attack, but they parried with unexpected strength, making Thace trip and forcing him to make several steps to regain his balance. Battle rage slowly started clouding Thace's mind. His opponent also uttered an dull roar from under his helmet and dashed forward. He was very strong and very heavy, managing to topple Thace, but the Lieutenant slid out from under him, pinned his opponent to the ground and hit him with the whole strength. Now the weapons were cast aside and forgotten, and the two wiggled on the ground, grappling each other like wild beasts. Thace managed to free his hand and tried to hit the other in the face, hidden by the helmet. His fist slipped and hit the controls on the neck instead. The helmet's front glass brightened, and to his amazement, Thace saw Prorok's face, thick eyebrows furrowed, blood running from his broken lip. The shock of seeing the Commander made Thace's hand go limp, and Prorok, still oblivious to his opponent's identity, used this to his advantage, throwing the Lieutenant at the floor.

 

"What are you doing, giving up?" he panted, pinning Thace’s right arm. "What kind of soldier are you?"

 

Thace wiggled helplessly: the thought of Prorok being so close, touching, almost hugging him, sent his thoughts in disarray, taking the battle spirit away from him. The Lieutenant pressed the button on his helmet, revealing himself, and watched Prorok's face fall.

 

"Oh, I see now," Commander said coldly, taking his hands off Thace and got up. "Thank you for the fight."

 

He turned towards the exit, and Thace felt so guilty and miserable that he was about to burst in tears.

"I’m sorry!" he exclaimed. "I had no idea I would get you in trouble with the emperor! I just felt there was something wrong and I wanted to know the truth!"

 

But Prorok already closed the door behind himself, leaving Thace alone. Seeing Prorok so close and being rejected again felt almost like physical pain. Not knowing how to make up to Commander for his impudence with the search engines, the Lieutenant tried to do what he was best at: be as useful as possible. Knowing that Prorok sometimes forgot his numerous appointments, Thace spent a week of free evenings and created a detailed schedule for him. Not without hesitation, he dared to show it to the Commander.

 

"This might be helpful, it distributes the incoming messages  - here - into categories and creates appointments automatically - here - with corresponding alarms sent to your communicator."

 

Prorok looked at the template for a while, not saying anything. 

 

"I am so sorry," Thace dared. "I didn't think..."

 

"When do ever think?" Prorok snapped with sudden anger. "It seems that you turn into an imbecile the second you raise your nose from your files and start interacting with people!"

 

Thace considered it best not to object to Commander’s estimation of his mental abilities.

 

“I had no idea that Zarkon would be personally informed about the query...”

 

“This was no ordinary query,” Prorok said quietly and sadly, anger gone from his voice. “You tapped into one of the empire’s most secured domains. Now it will have long-lasting consequences for both of us.”

 

“Then why didn’t you warn me? Was it a test?”

 

“No. To be honest, it was my mistake. I underestimated your curiosity, I thought you’d go with the explanation I provided.”

 

Thace looked down at his hands.  _ What could he say? No Blade ever went with the explanations provided to them officially… _

 

“Thace, did  you make the search on a general info terminal on purpose? You didn’t use your own” Prorok asked, still speaking very quietly, as if talking to himself.

 

“Was there a difference?” Thace gasped, looking up. “Oh, of course there was… No, I had no idea! You think I tried to attract attention to the fleet while hiding the exact identity of the one searching? I would never do that!”

 

The Commander gave him an endless suspicious glance, until he lowered his eyes back into the terminal on his table.

 

“Commander, I swear,” Thace continued frantically, “I couldn't imagine that the search was even of any importance, let alone that it could harm you! If I knew, I would have come to you and asked you personally...”

 

Prorok sighed.

"Of course you wouldn’t do that on purpose… Thank you, lieutenant," he answered. "You skills are truly amazing, and the schedule is very useful indeed. You know what, I am making a cake and some punch this evening; come over if you have time."

 

Thace's heart leapt with joy!

 

“But remember, if you make one more such mistake, it may well end both our careers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if you would like to say anything (anything at all!!). I know begging for comments is wrong, but I need opinions so badly... Pwease? ^_^


	7. Chapter 7

_ Prorok is still the enemy, _ Thace told himself when his feet seemed to be carrying him into Commander's private headquarters on their own.   _ He has no compassion for anyone outside of his race! _

 

" _ But he cares for those he considers his brothers, just like you do, _ " a small voice in Thace's head whispered. "A _ nd he certainly has compassion and interest for you... _ "

 

_ I am a spy in enemy's headquarters, _ Thace thought,  _ I have to keep my head straight. My chances are non-existent anyway: Prorok is among the highest-ranking Commanders, and with the kind of attention that he pays to his looks, he is a juicy target for any beautiful Galra _ ! _ Even if by some miracle he wasn't hetero, that are the chances he would be interested in me of all people, especially after the degrading video? _

 

" _ But you’d like him to be interested, wouldn't you? _ " the voice asked. " _ You would surely like to know him intimately? _ "

 

The last thought made Thace more excited than it should have, and he had to take a few deep breaths before knocking. Instead of his usual uniform, Prorok was wearing a huge formless coat with a high collar, hanging around him like a blanket, and on his head Thace noticed two silver horns on a headband, half-sunken in the deep fur.

 

"Come in! " he greeted Thace enthusiastically.

 

Thace stepped inside and gasped, blinded by colors and lights, his senses overloaded by heavenly scents. The Commander's rooms - despite occasionally excessive luxuries- usually conformed to the basic design, but now they were unrecognizable. The ceiling and the walls were richly decorated with silver and golden stars and tinsel and lamps were surrounded by  circlets made of some coniferous plants. Smell of exotic spices and baked goods tickled Thace's sensitive nose. The Lieutenant shook his head in disbelief: no local traditions were tolerated in the army. Everyone must behave like Galra, not the citizens of their various native planets. Prorok winked conspiratorially at Thace as he quickly closed the door.

 

"Welcome to the no-sun-day, Thace. This is a Neikarian holiday, celebrated on the shortest day of the year, and it is today. I hope that you will keep this small gathering private."

 

Thace nodded, overwhelmed by this trust. Prorok immediately handed the Lieutenant a steaming mug from a small table at the entrance. The drink smelled of alcohol and spices.

 

"This is winter punch," Commander said. "Drink it!"

 

Thace, took a sip and started coughing uncontrollably.

 

"Are you trying to kill me?" he exclaimed after he regained his breath, "This poison consists of pepper alone!"

 

Prorok laughed, tilting his head back and giving Thace the overwhelming urge to kiss his throat.

 

"Winter punch is nothing, even for weaklings," he huffed. "You can master it, I believe in you!"

 

He invited Thace towards the table, where food and other Galra were gathered. All the officers who frequented the saloon were there, and a couple of those from secondary ships.

 

Thace was hungry after his shift, so after he greeted everyone shortly, he dove into the delicacies with an appetite of a starved weblum. While he was chewing, Prorok explained to him what they were actually celebrating. It turned out that the shortest day of the year was supposed to be met with as much food and light as possible, to lure the sun back from the black void it sank into, the decorations served the same purpose. Everyone dressed up as animals to scare the darkness away, hence the horns on Prorok's head. Prorok made Thace try every single type of pie he had made (not that the Lieutenant minded, the food was gorgeous!) and put a second pair of horns on Thace's head.

 

"Now you are a fawn, too," he said, smiling. "And a handsome one, I must admit. Too bad I have to leave you alone for a while."

 

Prorok walked off towards other guests, leaving Thace alone and somewhat embarrassed. He felt like he was that he blushing again, and was afraid someone might have overheard the conversation, so he went over to Ellik and did his best to engage in meaningless conversation. The older Galra started telling him about some injured soldier who was brought to him today, Thace nodding and pretending to pay attention.

 

_ What did Prorok mean calling me handsome? Was this a trick? Or is he subjecting me to some sort of test? He definitely didn't say that out of the blue, so what were his true intentions? _

 

After some time, Ellik left for another table to grab some more cake, with Thace hardly noticing his absence. He watched Hakor showing pictures of his eldest out of the corner of his eye and once again listened to the story of him winning the local rapier fighting competition (a topic that would usually interest Thace a lot), but all he wanted was to talk to Prorok again. At last, the Commander said goodbye to some engineer and returned to Thace and Hakor.

 

"What is this thing you are wearing?" Thace asked with his mouth full, slurping more punch. Somehow, with smiling Prorok around, everything tasted ten times better.

 

"This is a sweater," Prorok pulled the knitted sack to the side, straightening the pleats. "It is called that because you are supposed to sweat in it."

 

Thace started laughing uncontrollably at the joke - it seemed like the funniest thing he ever heard. Hakor had disappeared somewhere, so now it was just him and Prorok.  The food and alcohol were so numerous and tasty , the room so warm and Prorok’s presence so comforting after the excruciating coldness, that Thace relaxed to the extent that he had trouble sitting straight and had to slide down in his armchair a little to be able to put his head on the headrest comfortably.

 

"I never want to leave this place," he said, making the Commander smile. "I never want to think about anything. I’d do anything to just sit here forever and enjoy your hospitality without interruption."

 

“That’s called ‘relaxing’, Thace,” Prorok giggled. “You should enjoy your life for a change!” The Commander brought him more pie and a new mug with punch.

 

Everyone else left one by one until, finally, it was just the two of them. The conversation grew slow, with Prorok relaxing on the couch, watching Thace through  heavy-lidded eyes. His gaze sent too much warmth into Thace's crotch and he shifted, nervous he would expose something that might alarm the Commander. Only too much alcohol could explain the stupidity of Thace's next question.

 

"How did you manage to get your planet's spices for the punch and cake?"

 

Prorok's face darkened, and he shifted his mug between hands. "These are other planets' spices, I mixed others to recreate the original smell and taste."

 

Thace panicked. The last thing he wanted  was to appear as if was criticizing.

"No!" he exclaimed, noticing that his lips were numbed from the punch. "It's not fake spices that matter!"

 

For a split second, Prorok looked like he was about to hit the lieutenant.

 

"No," Thace moaned, "I meant..."

 

"Just shut up," Prorok said tiredly. "I know this is just an orchestrated counterfeit, but I would be very grateful if you of all people didn't shove it into my face."

 

"I am sorry, I think I had too much punch," Thace said, feeling embarrassed and guilty. 

 

Prorok just waved his hand, looking sad. The festive atmosphere withered, it even seemed to Thace that the air got a little colder. _How could I be so insensitive, now of all times?_ _It was obvious that the Commander cares a lot about his small party, why did I have to say something that stupid?_ The Lieutenant frantically searched for conversation topics, but the vacuum in his head seemed to be thinner than that outside of the ship.

 

"Why is the sweater so large?" he blurted out and gasped in horror at his own words. To his amazement, Prorok just smiled.

 

"There is actually a reason for that. You see, these sweaters aren't meant to be worn alone," Prorok searched in the folds of the huge sack and pulled out a knitted hole that looked like a second neck.

 

"You are supposed to invite someone you like to join you in the sweater and share hugs with them. People on Nei-Kari believed that this guarantees peace throughout the next year. Also, the more people you get to hug you in the sweater, the more luck you will attract to yourself. These sweaters help make up for past fights and force people to remind each other about their affection in a very basic way."

 

Prorok still seemed disappointed, and the punch must have been affecting Thace's judgement, because the Lieutenant suddenly felt very brave. He put his mug aside, made a couple of insecure steps towards the sofa and sank near the puzzled Prorok.

 

"We are supposed to interact closely for the next year, right? And fighting would be detrimental for our duties?"

 

The joy on Prorok's face was so obvious that it almost scared Thace.

 

"Then come in," the Commander said with a mischievous grin, pulling the sweater aside.

 

Thace dove his head into the folds of the knitted sack. It was much softer than it looked and smelled of cake and a little of Prorok, a warm, thick, powdery mixture that clouded Thace's mind with lust. He dove out from the second neck, gasping for air, desperate to hide his state, but Prorok gave him no chance. Commander’s yellow pupilless eyes were only inches away, clouded with the same feelings as Thace. Before he could think or say anything, Prorok slid his arm around his waist and kissed him.

 

Thace has already caught himself fantasizing what it would be like kissing Prorok, but the reality was better than any dream. Only now Thace felt how touch-starved he was, how much he wanted this. Every cell of his body melted with the pleasure of being touched by someone else. Prorok's hand on his back sent a new wave of heat in his crotch, Thace clung onto Commander's shoulder for support, feeling muscles bulging under his hand. Prorok's kiss was gentle and undemanding, so Thace deepened it, leaning more into the older Galra, sinking his fingers into the fur on Prorok’s neck, hugging him back... Too much alcohol and nervousness had affected his balance and he fell onto Prorok, landing with his crotch on the Commander's soft thigh.

 

"Look what we have; you are there already..." Prorok grinned into his mouth, having felt the other man's erection. With another kiss, he slid his hand down Thace's lower back and onto his thighs, inviting the Lieutenant to spread his knees further apart, and Thace was almost ready to arch his hips into this sensation, to deepen the contact…

 

Almost. Bitter fear clutched his heart and he broke the kiss.

 

"No, wait!" he gasped. "This is like Etor all over again!"

 

"No, it isn't," Prorok answered calmly, taking his hand off, as if having expected the question. "We are both Galra. And it is the other way round now: in case anyone asks, you can claim that I persuaded you for this deviant intercourse by bribing you with foods and alcohol."

 

Prorok giggled at Thace's shocked expression.

 

"No, I am serious!" Thace exclaimed. "How can you trust me to let me inside your life this way? How do you know that I am not a potential traitor?"

 

Prorok burst out with laughter and rested his head on Thace's shoulder, unable to stop giggling. His warm soft body was pressed against Thace's under the sweater and the Lieutenant had to make effort not to wrap his limbs around Prorok like a squid wraps its arms around prey to hold it forever.

 

"What?" Thace asked, feeling puzzled and somewhat offended.

 

"I'm sorry," Prorok gasped after he could stop laughing. "But you are no traitor."

 

He rubbed his cheek on Thace's shoulder and tightened the hug around Thace's waist. Thace knew that he should have moved away, but it was just too difficult, so he wrapped his arm around Prorok's neck instead and buried his face in the Commander's fur.

 

"You know, Etor also seemed very trustworthy to me!" the Lieutenant said, feeling a little insulted, but unable to stop nuzzling Prorok.

 

"That's because you are ignorant when it comes to relationships. I am sorry, but this is true. This Etor stinks of deception even through the screen, it is just so obvious! You are nothing like him."

 

"What if I hide it well?" Thace asked, distancing himself to look Prorok in the face and raising his eyebrows. Prorok cupped his cheek and traced his thumb gently over Thace's eyebrow, making Lieutenant want to grab his hand and bury his face into it.

 

"You are not a cunning traitor," Prorok said tenderly. "You are a lovable, introverted being,  too eager to fulfill his tasks optimally. Traitors are different, Thace. Traitors never throw themselves into their duties like you do when given a new assignment, they never invest so fully in their positions. They are selfish and don't just hand out their work to other people like you did with the template today. Traitors rarely fulfill their tasks well, they need to be relocated as often as possible to escape the consequences of their negligence. Traitors don't behave like you."

 

Prorok noticed the lieutenant's grimace of disbelief, so he sighed.

 

"Thace, I am an old man and I have been in the army all my life. You would be amazed at how many people I’ve seen in my years. How many traitors, scoundrels, liars and bootlickers have come and gone  before my eyes. If I couldn't tell them apart from the crowd, I would've never have become a Commander in the first place and definitely never kept my position. When you arrived here, it was immediately clear that you are a deeply good person, not just smart and hardworking, but also kind and ready to help. And very frightened for some reason, scarred despite your relatively young age. Always with your guard up, always expecting an attack... I just couldn't figure out why, but now I know."

 

Listening to Prorok, Thace forgot to breathe. He had no idea he was so obvious to the Commander! If it wasn't for the whole Etor situation, Prorok would have surely figured out his allegiance to the Blade!  _ The whole society was at risk of being discovered because of him! _ This thought sent cold sweat along Thace's spine and made belated fear rise like nausea up his throat. Prorok went silent and slid his fingers behind Thace's ear, rubbing the sensitive spot, hidden by the fur, looking at the younger Galra with an enamored expression. It was too much.

 

"I need to think it over!" Thace blurted out, jumping off Prorok's lap.  He was so hasty to distance himself that he completely forgot about the sweater, and had to untangle himself out of the folds in an embarrassing way under Prorok's gaze. The Commander seemed hurt, but didn't stop him.

 

"Thace, what’s wrong? What did I say to offend you so much? Please, if you ever..."

 

"I am sorry, I have to go!" Thace exclaimed and ran out.

 

He rushed to his own room that seemed very cold and very dark in comparison to Prorok's comfortable quarters.  His first reaction was to call Kolivan, but then he remembered the surveillance. He could still send a ciphered message, but he stopped with his communicator in his hand.

 

What would he say?  _ Prorok has x-ray vision when it comes to people and nearly figured us out? I fell in love with the Commander I am supposed to sabotage and I would do just about anything to earn one kiss?  _ And then what? Kolivan would recognize a threat to the mission and would organize it so that Thace would have to leave Prorok's fleet immediately. The very thought of never seeing the Commander again froze Thace with horror. No, he could not tell Kolivan anything, he couldn't afford to lose this warm, welcoming surrounding. He could not call any of his battle brothers either - they would report to Kolivan, and be right in doing so. He had to figure something on his own, so he sat there in the dark, biting his clawed fingers helplessly, feeling lonely and lost. No idea seemed suitable: he couldn't leave Prorok, but he also couldn't stay for fear that the perceptive Commander would figure his secret out. Prorok's image haunted him nonstop. _ Maybe just one time wouldn't hurt? Just feel those wonderful lips one more time, sink his fingers into this soft fur? Prorok decided that my cautiousness came from fear of revealing the past, he won't dig anymore into this direction... And even if he does: what if I could persuade him to join the Blade? With his ambition, there could be no way that Prorok was comfortable kneeling in front of Zarkon... _

 

He gave up the very same evening, of course, and trailed back to Prorok, ready to apologize and beg to be accepted back.

 

"I am sorry I left all of sudden, please, let me…" he started when the Commander opened the door, but Prorok didn't let him finish.

 

He was dragged inside, pressed against the wall, touched seemingly everywhere at once and kissed so passionately that his knees were about to give in. His mind was a happy mess when he kissed Prorok back, biting into this gorgeous mouth, panting, greedy for more, unable to break free. It has been so long since he has been with someone, let alone with someone so wonderful, so Thace felt a little disoriented and lightheaded. He slid his hands erratically over Prorok's back and shoulders, feeling the other man lean into the touch. Yet, when Thace grew bold enough to lift Commander's shirt and traced his hands on his waist, Prorok winced and pulled back.

 

"Don't," he said, panting lightly. "No need to spoil your mood."

 

"What?" Thace asked puzzled. "Why?"

 

Prorok switched off the main lights while Thace was away, and the room was only dimly lit by the emergency tubes, so Thace peered into Prorok's face to find out what happened. The Commander caught his hands, lead them off his body and grinned unpleasantly.

 

"We both see that I am fat. I know you mean well, but there are many possibilities for you not  to touch me that much. If I don't have the best body, let me at least help you enjoy the one I have."

 

"What?... No, this is isn't true! I like your body, let me touch you!" Thace exclaimed.

He freed his wrists from Prorok's grip and put a hand on the Commander's belly, holding him with the other to prevent him from pulling away and looking in the eyes directly.

 

"You are handsome beyond imaginable," he said firmly. "Please don't pull away, I want to feel every inch of your body."

 

Prorok closed his eyes for a second, then exhaled and relaxed into Thace's hug.

 

"Fine," he whispered. "Do as you wish, my perfect Thace."

 

“I am not...”

 

“I know perfection when I see one.”


	8. Chapter 8

Being with the Commander was like nothing Thace experienced before. Thace feared being pushed down in submissive position, but both in and out of bed Prorok never demanded anything of him and was so keenly attentive to his needs that Thace himself often felt unworthy of such affection.

 

Thace found out that Prorok was much more hardworking than he previously thought. The Commander spent less time on the bridge, but his work didn’t end there. Prorok would constantly think things over, day and night, and his orders were only the very last part of a long journey, most of which happened silently inside his head. He could brush his teeth or eat his dinner, lie on the couch or trim his sideburns, cuddle with Thace or visit Ellik for a glass of rum, but the tireless machine inside his brain never ceased working. Sometimes, he would freeze and then spit out a new idea about a topic that he hasn’t discussed with anyone for many days but that had been cooking over in his mind ever since. He always kept paper near bed, and Thace would sometimes wake up at night and find his lover frantically scribbling something down. Moreover, his thoughts seemed to run simultaneously, so that he was able to invest himself into several projects at once. What Thace took for negligence earlier was the distractedness of a mind that had too much to process, and the Lieutenant felt ashamed of himself for suspecting his lover of being lazy. Now that they had become even closer, he saw numerous opportunities to be helpful and Prorok happily reassigned most of work that required attention to detail to the Lieutenant.

 

Prorok's insecurities with body image did cloud their happiness at the very beginning, as well as the fact that Thace would fall asleep at the hour when Prorok’s most active part of the evening just began. However, after Thace's insistent attempts to make their love life more than just sex in complete darkness and seeing his partner’s genuine pleasure, Prorok slowly relaxed and even started allowing his lover to kiss his stomach. He turned out to be even more touch-starved than Thace himself, so their pastime together consisted mostly of mutual snuggling and fondling. To Thace's amazement, when it came to proper sex, the assertive and energetic Commander turned into a living sofa cushion. Tired of having to be in charge, Prorok liked to do as little as possible in bed and let Thace have the initiative, something that made the Lieutenant ecstatic. Out of bed, Prorok would now constantly talk, thinking aloud and constantly commenting something, and Thace melted simply listening to his voice. Any Commander was a king in his fleet, an ultimate authority; the backside of this medal was a huge gap between him and the rest of the officers who were mostly seen as members of the same cast. Other than his subordinates, a Commander could not afford to show even the slightest weakness, hesitation or sickness, so now, with someone he could confide in Prorok used the chance to spill everything out, lamenting and cheering aloud without end . Thace happily took the listener role onto himself, even though he wasn't sure how he earned this privilege.

 

Contrary to Thace's fear, there was almost no adjustment period. They only fought once and it was painful enough for both of them to ever repeat it. Prorok was away for a week for an exploration mission on one of the jungle moons that, according to Yilvik's spectral charts, promised rare ore deposits. Much to Commander's dismay, the miners found nothing, so Prorok had to return empty handed and deal with all the problems that arose in his absence and that Thace desperately tried to solve on his own, feeling unfairly abandoned and  forced to work without proper support. No wonder they were both grumpier than usual that evening.

 

“This fourth assault team is going to drive me crazy!” Prorok exclaimed, fresh out of the shower and devouring his fifth meat roll. Thace had no appetite, usual for him when tired and frustrated, so he just sat there, pushing his food to and fro around his plate. “I go away for a couple of days, and  what I find upon my return? A knife fight once again, and both refused to go to the medical bay until they collapsed from blood loss. I just can’t quite figure who is the ringleader of these fights is - oh, by the way, ringleader, that's the word I needed for the speech!”

 

Thace watched sulkily as his lover rushed into his study and scribbled something down, then returned to the kitchen. He knew that Prorok wasn’t criticizing him personally for not having averted the accident, but he still felt like he was being reprimanded. Or maybe it was just his general bad mood, Thace couldn’t quite tell.

 

“It is as if they collectively go crazy once every couple of months,” Prorok went on, biting into the next roll, chewing and talking at the same time. “Some amount of fighting is even encouraged, it shows battle spirit, but this desperation, this extreme violence… I have no idea where it comes from, each of them separately is perfectly fine, but when they get together, something goes wrong.”

 

 _Any other Commander would have just ignored the problem until they would have killed each other,_ Thace thought with sudden tenderness.   _Prorok is the only one willing to invest his time and compassion in these idiots._ Still, he wished that his lover would think more about him and less about his work. He was already horny from Prorok’s mere presence, but Commander seemed to be only interested in eating and talking.

 

“Maybe they took drugs?” Thace suggested.

 

“Out of question. I am positive that there is nothing worse than chewing tar in my fleet. It’s just that they have some unreleased tension among them, I just can’t quite figure what it is.”

 

“Maybe fire all of them collectively?” Thace didn't feel particularly compassionate that day, because in Prorok's absence, he was the one to deal with personnel papers, and was now sick and tired of the avalanche of aggression, negligence and laziness he had been subjected to.

 

“I’m not quite there yet, they are all exceptionally good in combat… But if it continues, I will have no other choice. Thace, you seem to be popular on the training decks, maybe you noticed something?”

 

Thace shook his head. “Sorry, I would be happy to help, but I don't know, either,” he said. “Now that I’ve had to deal with them, I think we would be better off with just mechanical sentries. They are all just your regular thugs, nothing spectacular. None of them has the brain power to instigate something like this.”

 

“Brainless thugs,” Prorok giggled unpleasantly, pushing the plate away from himself and turning to Thace. “You are an elitist, honey. These thugs will cut the enemy's throat on your command. Or yours, if they consider it easier. If you want to lead them successfully, you need to forget your high-society arrogance and try to understand them.”

 

“I’m not high-society,” Thace frowned. “My parents are regular Galra like everyone else…”

 

“Yes, a treasurer and the vice minister of education for a star system, very ordinary!” Prorok interrupted, smirking. “What was you schools ranking once again?” Even though there was no malice in his voice, only playful mockery, Thace felt his face burn. Prorok unknowingly hit Thace’s sore spot and he felt rage ring in his ears.

 

“My mother was only a vice minister for one legislative period, for your information! One!” he snapped. “That’s only three decaphoebs, I don’t even remember that time! We weren't rich or anything, we only lived in the administrative district, that’s why I went to a good school! It’s not something to be ashamed of... And I don't share anything but a line in my record with my parents! I haven't talked to anyone from my family in years, I can't stand their stuck-up arrogance as much as any of those soldiers would. I have been going my own way for years now and I thought you of all people would know better than judge me by my social background!”

 

“Sorry, sorry, honey, I didn't mean to offend you.... I don't judge you by your parents, it just came up. And there is nothing wrong with coming from a decent family, and being not just bright, but also well-behaved!“ Prorok tried to calm him down, but the Lieutenant had already gone rogue.

 

“You think you can just shut me up with some flattery? I am not arrogant, I am only telling the truth about those soldiers! They could have gone to the university, studied something, strived towards knowledge and self-improvement. Instead, they prefer to rely on their fists and risk their lives for the pleasure of ravaging some helpless alien world. If they know nothing but destroying, they are thugs and nothing more!”

 

“Gone to the university?” Prorok’s eyes narrowed. “Who would have paid for their life while they studied?...”

 

“There are governmental scholarships...” Thace started, but Prorok only raised his voice.

 

“Who would have encouraged them to get good grades at school to be eligible for a scholarship? Who would have told them that a path of honour lies not only in fighting? Many are either partially or completely orphaned, raised on the farthest, most underdeveloped worlds or come from poor families. They know nothing better than using sheer force to get what they want! You think you are better than them, with your broad education and perfect pronunciation, but they managed to overcome their heritage, to turn their lives for the better; you should admire, not despise them!”

 

“Admire those who know nothing more than violence?”

 

“Value those who you have the authority to send to their deaths!” Prorok exclaimed at full volume.

 

“If it was up to me, I wouldn’t send anyone to their deaths!”

 

Now they were both yelling, spitting words out with only one purpose - to hurt the opponent as much as possible.

 

“So you want to enjoy the options the army offers you but not kill anyone? Don’t want to make your gentle hands dirty?”

 

“My hands will not sign an inhumane order! My hands will not participate in a mass murder like your valued Safk did! He killed an entire village with a sword, personally, and he has the audacity to brag about it!”

 

“You will kill your own brother if ordered, not just some alien villagers! Otherwise you are no faithful officer!”

 

“Oh, so you are used to be just an instrument in your senior officer’s hands? Thank goodness I didn’t have to march on command in some military so-called-academy like a mindless yapper!”

 

It wasn’t Prorok he was shouting at anymore, but the entire Galran military system, the whole stiff, vicious society he tried to hide from in his documents and that suddenly attacked him in the Commander’s absence.

 

“You managed to drop out even out of your spineless useless-niversity, the likes of you wouldn’t have lasted a month at the academy!” Prorok roared in a blind rage.

 

“I had an identity crisis! The university is infested with subbservient idiots like you and like everywhere else! You wouldn’t understand, you just loved crawling on your belly in front of your Commanders!”

 

“Identity crisis, ha? What kind of wuss are you?”

 

They stared at each other, panting, then Prorok turned away and started fiddling with a fork. Thace looked in front of himself, feeling numb and tired. After what has been said, the only logical thing to do was to turn and slam the door, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it and lose all the happiness that already united him with his lover. _Useless-niversity… Is this what Prorok thinks of his education?_ Then he remembered his own words and felt his guts freeze with shame. _Why did he have to explode like that? Why did he have to offend Prorok personally?_ It wasn’t his lover he wanted to hurt, but the whole system that nearly drove him into suicide.

It was at the end of his first university year; he realized that his hopes of finding the free spirit of knowledge at the university were naive and childish, that there was no hiding from Zarkon’s despotic reign. He almost decided to hang himself by the time Kolivan contacted him. At first, Thace had thought that the huge white-haired stranger was an eavesdropper, but he was beyond desperate, so he went with him and found his new reason to live. He left the lectures without the slightest regret and enrolled himself in the army, where he could be useful for his new brothers. The fact that Prorok dismissed his struggle as wussiness and that Thace couldn’t explain to him what really happened hurt beyond imagination.

 

“I also had something like an identity crisis once,” Prorok said suddenly, still looking at the fork, his voice sad and quiet. Thace looked at him in amazement: Commander didn’t seem like someone to have internal conflict with the empire.

 

“I was a lieutenant, a little younger than you, four years out of the academy. I started to understand I would never make the glorious career I wanted. The Captain I served under was a perfect southerner, and a son of a Commander. He had a whole network of useful people he would promote. I worked like crazy, but I never stood a chance against their camarilla. My future became clear to me: accept the fact that I would have to side-act for some posh upstart for my whole life, do all their work and watch them get rewarded. Remain a Lieutenant for the rest of my days until they kick me out for being too old and useless...”

 

Prorok went silent again, so Thace had to move a little to show his interest.

 

“I am not patient like you, so I decided that if I couldn’t live like I wanted to, I could at least die honorably. I filed a request for relocation to the Raapa system; it was a true meat grinder back in the day, with three jungle planets full of vicious inhabitants, flora and fauna alike. The Commander signed it right away, of course - what other idiot would give up a more or less secure place for that hell? I arrived there, a young fool, ready for an impressive self-sacrifice, saw my squadron, and... There was nothing glorious about death in the jungle, only dirt, wounds that wouldn't heal, pus and parasitic worms. My soldiers were far from smart, mostly those without connections, who couldn’t buy their way out of their relocations, justl likethose thugs you so despise. They lay in those fetid swamps, eaten alive by bugs, lacking basic resources and facing death every day while those clean and educated officers in the commanding quarters made money selling the supplies intended for them to pirates! They were so emaciated and their uniforms were so ragged you could count every one of their ribs! You can imagine how happy they were to see me, fat and polished from serving in the garrison, with a leather bag, their next fancy chief who would run away after a couple of days… One of them tried to cut my stomach open ten doboshes after I arrived, it was pure luck that I noticed him before he could strike. I traveled to the orbit base to demand more supplies, but the Captain responsible for materials only laughed in my face. There was no way I could send a report bypassing my higher command, and who would listen to me?”

 

“What did you do?” the Lieutenant asked quietly, already knowing that the story won’t end well.

 

“What could I do? I didn’t have much choice. If I left, any army career would have been closed for me. Besides, then those soldiers' judgement about me would have been correct. I returned to my squadron, they had thought my absence was just an excuse to run away and were very surprised to see me back. I fed them all the snacks I had with me. I shared with them what I managed to find out from the intelligence reports, those slaughterers kept the soldiers completely in the dark! I carried the heavy warheads, since I was the least worn-out of everyone and promised them that if we make it to the next village, we would eat everything we can find until we burst and sleep in their beds until we would be sick of it. I didn’t want to die anymore, I wanted to survive and tell the truth about what was happening. In fact, I never wanted to live as much as I did while I crawled through those forsaken swamps with the stupid useless warheads hitting me under my knees with each step, when a poisoned arrow could finish me anytime. We didn’t get to rob that village - the artillery destroyed it entirely, together with the food supplies. By the time we reached the second one, I had lost half of my weight, but we captured it and I can assure you, I enjoyed plundering those aliens! You can think what you want to, but we cut their throats, took anything we could and binged on their food like feral beasts, and I would have done it again if I had to!”

 

Prorok paused for a few ticks and sighed.

 

“Anyway, after that crisis, I learned that my place was with the soldiers of the empire, with Galra, with my brothers in race. It didn’t matter that they cleaned their teeth with their nails and their most intellectual pastime was competing for the loudest burp. I could rely on them unconditionally and knew that their honour wouldn’t allow them to back down.”

 

Prorok now went completely silent, and Thace also remained speechless. His own fights mostly happened on an intellectual level, battles of cunning plans and smart psychological moves, and this crude truth caught him unprepared. He suddenly understood what his lover meant when he talked about getting hands dirty, and this realization made him shiver. The Lieutenant suffocated with shame for his words earlier and frantically searched for the right words to apologize, but he feared saying something offensive again and was lost for words.

 

“Forgive me, honey,” Prorok said first, still not looking at Thace. “It  seems I am a bitter man, jealous of you because you are so bright and mentally clean, such a doll, such an idealist… I wasn't like this even when I was your age, I was mostly interested in finding a way to rise through the ranks faster. This halo of honesty around you... You want fairness, who even thinks about it! You find in yourself compassion for aliens! I should help you instead of attacking, especially with how much you help me. I am so sorry I lashed out at you...”

 

Prorok turned towards Thace, and the Lieutenant grabbed his shoulders.

 

“No!” Thace exclaimed desperately. “It is all my fault! I have no halo! I was being ignorant and arrogant! I attacked you! You went through so much and I called it being subservient! I am sorry, Prorok, you are right: I wouldn't have lasted a month where you succeeded!”

 

Thace sank his face in Prorok’s neck and, with huge relief felt Commander’s arms wrap around him.

 

“Let us go on the couch,” Prorok suggested. “You are tired, I completely overloaded you with assignments in my absence.”

 

“Prorok, I didn’t mean what I said,” Thace moaned after they curled up on the couch. “I don’t think you are, or ever were, subservient! You are the most innately autonomous person I’ve ever known, someone who relies on his own judgement alone! And I never thought that everyone in the military academy were yappers, I am so sorry for saying it, I have no idea where it came from!”

 

“Seems like it was hidden somewhere here inside of your pretty head!” Prorok huffed, circling his fingers around Thace’s skull. “Now where could it lie? Maybe here? No, must be here!”

 

Prorok closed his fingers on the base of Thace’s skull and made the Lieutenant laugh out hysterically.

 

“Stop it!” Thace exclaimed, giggling, covering Prorok’s hand with his own, and felt that his lover intertwined their fingers.

 

“Next time, all personnel questions will go to Thag, including the documents. This way, you won't have to deal with demands of soldiers on top of everything ekse.” Prorok said. “She is the second subCommander, after all, and she needs new assignments. Let her do it for a change. I take all the immense work you do for me for granted, it is just too convenient to always rely on your help… I should not delegate too much to you, I keep ignoring the fact that you never unload tasks from yourself and try to manage everything on your own.”

 

Thace could only nod, overflown by thankfulness to his lover for this understanding, for the fact that he didn’t have to speak it all aloud, admit his inability to lead the soldiers personally.

 

“Prorok, what happened later on Raapa? How did you manage to succeed under those terrible conditions?” Thace asked when they were already in bed, about to fall asleep, blissful and relaxed in his lover’s arms. Prorok sighed.

 

“Nothing good, sadly. We got stuck in the third village, cut off from the other forces, our ammo supplies dwindling, constantly under attack from small groups of locals. Our food was quickly eaten, we got no new supplies, hunting was also not an option due to the danger… We couldn't even sleep properly, being constantly under attack of small groups of enemies, dirty head to toe, covered in sores. We would have all died there, killed one by one either by the locals or the deadly illnesses that circulated in the swamps, but the Emperor saved us.”

 

“The Emperor?” Thace gasped.

 

“Indirectly, of course. The fight started taking so many lives that his Majesty personally looked into the matter. It took him mere quintants to find out the extent of corruption happening. The entirety of high command landed in Haggar’s prisons as experiment material, everyone from the surface was evacuated and the planets were used to test the first prototype of an automated quintessence gathering machine. The tests were successful, as far as I know, the jungle was full of life and provided the empire with an enormous amount of quintessence.”

 

The Blade knew of Haggar’s experiments on automated gathering of quintessence, so it didn’t come as a surprise for Thace. However, the thought of whole planets destroyed, all life turning to grey ashes made him shiver. Prorok sensed his distress.

 

“You know,” he said. “When they evacuated us, I couldn’t be happier to abandon the jungle and be in the empire again, but now I sometimes wish I had taken a tree cone or a branch with me, as a souvenir… Or a spearhead… I never figured out what those aliens believed in, the organisation of their tribes, what they even did before we arrived. Now there is really nothing left of them, just stone and dust, forever.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta-read from here. Proceed with caution!

With each day, Thace felt that he was sinking in this relationship deeper and deeper. He knew he shouldn't have gotten attached, but Prorok's affection engulfed him like a blanket, making him forget his duty as a resistance fighter. In the evenings after his shifts, starved for affection, he would grab Prorok, put him on the sofa and kiss him head to toe, and feel like killing a weblum with his bare hands for just one more tick of joy. It wasn't even about sex on its own (although being with Prorok felt like a water in a desert), it was about that active care that Prorok was so capable of, about this gentle attention. About all those sweet small rituals they so quickly developed together: about the time when Thace brushed his hairy partner's back; about when Prorok lay with his head in Thace's lap, vigorously complaining about some problems that he encountered during the day while Thace ran his fingers through his hair; about breakfasts Thace left on the kitchen table before leaving and about dinners that awaited him upon his return. 

 

_ He is not supposed to become your friend, _ Thace tried saying to himself.  _ You are like those stray yappers who are ready to run behind anyone who pats them on their head. _ But it was already too late: after Thace once learned this sweet taste of Prorok's affection, he couldn't let it go, no matter how detrimental it was for his duty. 

 

However, very soon the duty stopped mattering completely, when one more conversation with Prorok put his life upside down again. It was late in the evening; Thace was kneeling near the sofa, with his partner lying on his stomach, rubbing his broad back. Prorok returned that evening, having been away for two movements for a series of secret counsels, where Zarkon gathered his most trusted Commanders to discuss strategy of the expansion of the empire. Thace was left behind, as no one apart from the invited ones was allowed on board. The fact that these meetings even happened was a state secret so carefully guarded that the Blade of Marmora didn’t know about it before. Thace, who used the suddenly free and lonely evenings to clean up everything he forgot to do before, regretted not having a communicator to tell Kolivan the news many times while Prorok was absent, but now that he had his Commander back, the Blade stopped mattering. Thace knew what happened the second he saw Prorok get out of his jet, his face greyish-pale, his posture too stiff, lips pressed into a thin line. The Commander disappeared in his quarters immediately and the Lieutenant followed him as soon as he could without raising suspicion.  

 

“Thace, could you rub my back?” Prorok asked as soon as Thace entered, all stiff with pain, his eyes sunken from long suffering. This was a huge indicator of distress: the Commander was too proud to ask Thace for massage, the Lieutenant always offered it on his own.

 

Thace learned manual therapy during one of his first assignments for the Blade, when he was supposed to get access to medical data stored in the central medical information system and was disguised as a nurse in training for almost a decaphoeb. The operation took a lot longer then expected, but he did retrieve the data at the end, and was left with one more useful skill. However, he never knew how valuable it was until he found out he was the only one who could help his lover. 

 

The source of Prorok’s suffering was a hard knot on his back, where a grenade shard hit through the older Galra’s body, breaking the ribs and damaging the spine. It happened several years after Raapa, when Prorok was already Captain, but was still sent in field missions. The shard remained stuck in his body for almost an entire day until their group was rescued, so Prorok worsened the damage by having moved around while trying to finish their assignment. The bones and muscles grew together eventually and Prorok’s bravery was noticed, but the medic was a bad one, so Prorok had to live with the consequences of his wound for the rest of his life. Normally, he was just as strong and resilient as anyone else, but sometimes when he got cold or had to sit uncomfortably for a long time, the bump on the wrongly grown together spine would bite into the knot of severed muscle, get dislocated, compress the nerves and make Prorok suffer from excruciating back pains. This injury made Prorok only conditionally qualified for military service and thus, if found out, would put an end to his career; so the ambitious Commander hid it the best he could. Before Thace, even Ellik didn’t know anything about the pains: the pressure for a Commander to be physically infallible was so overwhelming that it made Prorok inject himself with lion’s doses of strongest painkillers but not talk to anyone about the problem. Thace’s ability to straighten the sprain and soothe pains within half a varga at most earned him Prorok’s ecstatic thankfulness.

 

Prorok’s whole back was stiff, the muscles around his ribs and shoulders so tense that Thace briefly wondered how the Commander could breathe. The Lieutenant started from circling movements on Prorok’s shoulder blades, attempting to relax the muscle before straightening the spine, but Prorok’s ears lowered and he held his breath. Obviously, even such gentle intrusion hurt him greatly.  _ Today it is worse than usual… _ Thace slid his fingers over the spot where he would usually feel the sharp protrusion of the badly remodeled spine under the furry skin. Now, the tense muscle built such a hard case around it that he couldn’t feel anything. Prorok shivered with pain at the touch.  _ Straightening it directly is not an option this time. _

 

“Sorry,” Thace murmured. He started rubbing Prorok’s sides, feeling how slowly Commander’s breath become more even. He dared to move closer towards the knot.

 

“What even happened there,” he sighed. “What did they do to you to make you feel that bad?”

 

Prorok shifted ever so slightly from the question, but Thace’s hand slipped and he pressed a little too much. The older Galra hissed with pain.

 

“You know damn well that I can not tell you what happened there… why do you even ask?” Prorok groaned, his face still hid in the sofa. “Do you have knives for fingers or something?” 

 

_ Poor Prorok, it must hurt so much to make him explode like that _ , Thace thought. He rubbed his partner’s back in silence some more time, trying to be as careful as possible.

 

“Nothing,” Prorok murmured into the sofa after a while. “Nothing happened. It just started out of nowhere.”

 

Thace didn’t answer anything: now that the muscle has already relaxed a little, he switched from circling movements to rubbing with the edges of his hands. Prorok exhaled deeply and Thace saw his ears relax a little more, meaning that the Lieutenant could soon  start with more active impact.

 

“It started out of nowhere two days ago and I could only take as much painkiller with me without raising suspicion, we are all being scanned… The last dosis stopped working the day before yesterday, and the pain got even worse on the way back. It was really unexpected, too, though I should have anticipated that it might happen  at the headquarters one day.”

 

_ Two whole days of terrible pain and he had to keep his face in front of Zarkon!  _ Thace went on rubbing stronger some more, until he started feeling the knot of the strained muscle dissolve.  _ Only highest - ranking Commanders are allowed, but they are still being searched. By whom? The druids? Zarkon really doesn’t trust anyone but his witch... Kolivan needs to know about this as soon as the communicator arrives.  _

 

“I’ll straighten it now,” Thace said and, before Prorok could protest, he pressed at the right spot with all the strength once and twice. The spine cracked, Prorok gasped and then relaxed. The problem has been solved. Thace circled his partner’s back lightly some more to finish the massage.

 

“Thank you, honey. Don’t know what I would have done without you.” Prorok murmured, his voice muffled by the sofa pillow. Thace put a warm pack between his lover's shoulder blades, hugged his waist and buried his face in Prorok’s side. He heard his lover’s heartbeat slow down, relaxing, Commander’s fur tickled his nose and knowing that Prorok felt better now made him slightly lightheaded with happiness. Prorok turned his head and twisted his arm to reach Thace’s head. He slid his fingers through lieutenant's hair, gently rubbing the top of his head.

 

“My heart,” he said tenderly; the visible corner of his lips bent up, and Thace was unable to contain a quiet happy whine. “My guardian angel… My beauty. I missed you so much,  perfect Thace! How did everyone treat you while I was away?”

 

“I missed you so much, too!” Thace exclaimed. “Everyone is nice, but it is you I need!”

 

“Honestly, I needed you so much all the time there, too... I got so used to you, not just your advice, but your presence in general. This sane judgement of yours... I shouldn’t get so needy, but you are too irresistible, darling.” Prorok spoke slowly, now that the pain finally left, he relaxed completely and seemed sleepy. 

 

“Prorok, you should take rest,” Thace said, distancing himself, but Prorok caught his shoulder.

 

“No, don’t go!” he exclaimed, his eyes suddenly widely open. “I just got to see you, stay with me some more!”

 

“If it was up to me, I’d stick around all the time,” Thace smiled. He sat on the sofa, moved Prorok’s head on into his lap, and started to slide his fingers through his partner’s sideburns. Prorok closed his eyes again, sighed blissfully and lay like that for some time, letting Thace caress his face. Then he caught Thace’s hands and kissed his wrist, murmuring his name. This obvious affection, this open, unrestrained tenderness always affected Thace’s mind like catnip.

 

“I cooked soup,” he said, not knowing how to express his feelings, what else to do to please his partner, feeling that he sounded subservient but too overjoyed to do anything about it. “I bet you hardly ate anything hot all the time. I could bring it here for you to eat. Or would you rather like salad? I can make some really quick. Would you like me to give you foot massage, too?”

 

“Thace, you did enough for me for the evening, don’t you think?” Prorok interrupted him and winked, looking  up at Thace between the lieutenant’s fingers. “Now is my turn, otherwise it’s unfair.”

 

“No, no,” Thace laughed back. “you are tired with pain, and I want to be useful! I also sorted your review papers, you made a mess of them again.”

 

Prorok suddenly got up at the sofa and pulled Thace towards himself, letting the warm pack slide to the floor.

 

“You do know you don’t have to be useful all the time to be loved by me, do you?” he asked seriously. 

 

_ Loved?... Did he just... _

 

“I am not with you for back rubs, Thace, and not for sorted papers (though thank you, honey). You don't have to constantly prove your value to me! You do have this wish to do something important for those you care about, and it is endearing... but only as long as it is not a burden for you.”

 

Thace closed his eyes and put his head on Prorok’s shoulder, and Commander kissed him on the temple immediately. Prorok’s strong arms felt so comforting around Thace’s body, his words so sweet, his affection so sincere...

 

„You are still jumpy,“ the Commander said, circling his palm along Thace's shoulder. „What is wrong, Thace? Did something happen while I was away? What bothers you?“

 

_ I am a weak, worthless man, _ Thace wanted to say.  _ I exchanged my pride and my obligations for fondlings from a man I am supposed to hate. You attract me like a magnet, I would not only rub your feet, I would do anything if just told me what, but it won't change the truth - I am a double traitor no matter how you look at it. I am threat to you and a disgrace to my brothers and no amount of help will change that. _

 

Of course, he tried brushing Prorok's concerns away, but the Commander was by far too smart to believe this lie. He kept asking, and Thace didn't know what to say. As it already happened before, Prorok recognized Thace's concerns correctly, but made completely wrong conclusions due to not knowing about the Blade.

 

„Thace, why are you feeling guilty?“ he asked.

 

„I don't...“ Thace answered, amazed by the correct direction Commander's thought took.

 

„Yes you are, what is wrong, Thace? Do you have debts? Did you make a mistake in your work while I was away? Is someone trying to blackmail you again? Let me help you!“

 

Thace gasped.

„What? No, of course I don't have debts! What would I even spend money on? And I swear, no one is blackmailing me!“

 

Prorok gave him a long, suspicious glance.Thace knew he had to say something.

 

"Prorok, would you be with me if I was an alien?" he asked, letting an old bitter thought resurface.

 

Prorok rolled his eyes. 

 

"What interesting ideas you have, honey," he said. “Do you have an alien fetish or something?"

 

"No, it's more about social role than fetishes. What if I was a half-breed, Prorok? Would you consider it below yourself to sleep with me if I had a tail?"

 

"I would sleep with you even if you had three tails. The problem is that if you were an alien, it wouldn't be you. I know what you'll tell me - “I would just have a wrong skin color, what difference does it make?” It does, sadly. You are a Galra, Thace..."

 

"So you only need the Galra in me?" Thace interrupted.

 

Prorok smiled absently.

 

"Let me see. You are honest and proud, smart and compassionate, even too much, from my point of view. You are precise, brave...”

 

“I am not brave! I am none of those things!” Thace exclaimed, his face burning with shame at all the compliments he didn’t deserve and anger at how Prorok’s thoughts drifted away from the topic he wanted to discuss.

 

“Brave,” Prorok repeated weighty, “loyal and honorable. This is every quality that makes you a Galra. If you were an alien, you wouldn't have any of those traits. Well, you could have been smart, but you would have been sneaky and treacherous. You could have been fierce and loyal, but a mindless brute. And never ever would you have had your honor."

 

Thace didn't know what to answer. Prorok's misconceptions were so neatly arranged, so perfectly aligned to each other that he didn't see the point from where to start. Plus he felt flustered at all the nice things Prorok just told him and he didn't want to start an argument now that Prorok finally felt no pain.

 

"You are wrong about me, but thank you, I am flattered," he murmured, unable to contain a smile. "But it is not about me personally. Aliens are just as capable of being honorable as we are. Maybe we just don't let them?"

 

Prorok shot him a sideways glance.

 

"Quiznak forbid you to say that to anyone outside these walls," he said. "How did you even survive until now, with your inability to hold your tongue?"

 

"But I am inside these walls, right?" Thace asked patiently. "I can trust you, can't I? Why do you think that all aliens are innately worse than we are? Maybe we are the ones who made a wrong turn at some point?"

 

Prorok butted him with his forehead lightly.

 

"Of course you can trust me. But I don't share these weird ideas. How did we make a wrong turn if our empire is the biggest, most glorious and powerful state that ever existed?"

 

"But at what cost?"

 

"At the cost that it takes! Remember the alteans? Their treacherous king played being Emperor's friend for decades, but it didn't stop him from destroying our planet the second his Majesty was incapacitated!"

 

_ No one destroyed our planet, the monster allowed it to destabilize until it was uninhabitable, _ Thace almost blurted out, but stopped himself just in time. The story of what really happened on Daibazaal ten thousand years ago was one of the most sacred pieces of knowledge the Blade possessed. Prorok misinterpreted his silence.

 

"I offended you," he said, stretching his arm to catch Thace's hand. "My heart, I know you come from a good place! You have this incredible compassion for everyone, even the aliens. It is just that they wouldn't value your gift. They would turn your own kindness against you, believe me, I saw so many of them during my life and none disproved my belief."

 

Thace sighed. Everything was useless, Prorok would never believe him without knowing what the Blade knew, and he could not tell him about the Blade until he overpersuaded him. The devil's circle closed.

 

"Sorry I spoil your mood with these topics now that you are tired," Thace said, rubbing his cheek on Prorok’s shoulder. "Let us talk about something pleasant instead."

 

"No, it is a valid topic, if it bothers you," Prorok answered, sliding his fingers along Thace’s forearm. "But this is not what bothers you all the time, is it?"

 

"When you are around, nothing bothers me," Thace laughed, and Prorok answered him with a huff.

 

"I always wanted to ask you: where did you learn to fight like you do? Your record doesn't state any particular training for close combat, but what I saw in the training simulation was beyond impressive!"

 

Luckily, Thace has already invented an answer for that, otherwise Prorok would have certainly figured out he was lying.

 

"My uncle taught me, he was in the special forces. And then I always used simulations as much as I could. It is nice to stretch the muscles sometimes, since my work is all about documents."

 

Prorok smiled absently, and Thace's heart sank.  _ Did he not believe? _

 

"Thace, it is your decision to share your secrets you with me or keep it to yourself," the Commander said slowly, "It would be unfair if I pushed you, but I want you to know that if you decide to share, I will always listen."

 

Thace swallowed down a painful knot in his throat and nodded, not looking directly at his lover. He couldn't say anything, tears suddenly suffocated him. The desire to spit out the truth became  nearly unbearable, it hurt him physically that he had to hide something from his partner. Prorok kissed his temple several times, and now Thace felt Commander's breath on his cheek.

 

"It doesn't matter if I am higher in ranks," Prorok whispered into Thace's ear.  "I swear, I would never use my position to push you somewhere, punish you for something. I would never harm you, I couldn't. I love you, Thace. Please trust me that I do...“

 

Thace gasped and turned to Prorok, mute with a storm of feelings in his chest. Confessing his love to an enemy was the worst thing Thace could have done as a Blade. This would mean swearing an oath to his lover, one that would directly contradict his duties! It would have been so much easier if Prorok was cold, calculative, or ruthless, if he did something to kill Thace's feelings. Then Thace could have lied, spied and been a good Blade. But this was just too much…

 

"I love you, too," he exhaled, burying his face in Prorok's fur. "I love you so much..."


	10. Chapter 10

Prorok's love confession broke some sort of dam in Thace's soul and released all the feelings that were stored behind it. It was as if a blooming oasis has appeared in the cold, merciless metal desert of the empire. Prorok's room was not just a warm spot anymore; it became Thace's refuge and sanctuary. Thace now felt like Prorok was the only person he ever needed in his life, the only one whose approval he required, the only whose opinion mattered.

 

The lieutenant could not fight being enamored, smitten by Prorok anymore. He constantly wanted to do something for his lover, so he brushed Prorok from head to toe several times each evening and gave him endless back rubs, did his dishes while he was late from his shift and wiped dust from his shelves. And the most wonderful thing was that each and every sign of affection was met with joy and thankfulness and reciprocated tenfold. Prorok looked at him with intoxicated, glossy eyes and constantly tried to feed him, he kissed his palms and covered him with an extra blanket when he froze at night. All walls between them have fallen, and Thace couldn't have enough of this unconditional proximity.

 

Zarkon and Kolivan alike disappeared from Thace's inner vision. The empire stopped mattering. The oppression stopped mattering. Even his duty as a Blade stopped mattering: all that occupied his thought was Prorok. He hardly kept himself together during the day and struggled not to run when he may finally head off to Prorok's chambers after his shifts ended. The evenings became a bliss. Prorok joked that it took him all his self-control not to follow Thace into the bathroom, and, to his horror, Thace related. He couldn't have enough of his partner. Prorok's touch gave him life, Prorok's lips were sweeter than candy, Prorok's body made him pant with desire just upon seeing his partner in the corridor. Each time Prorok's soft, skillful palms touched him, he turned into a shivering, hungry mess, ready to do literally anything to please his partner. He used to prefer passionate sex, but now he melted into Prorok's gentle touch and wished for it to never stop. Any kind of attention made him immediately horny, and when Prorok sweet-talked him like only he could, Thace hardly kept himself from crying with joy.

 

Now, it was Thace’s turn to constantly speak. He couldn’t tell his partner about the Blade, but the rest poured out of him like water out of a broken bucket. He would lie with his head on his partner’s broad chest, feel how soft fingers ran through his hair and tell Prorok everything: about the cold home, as clean and as lifeless as an operating room, about the silence that surrounded him for days if got even a single grade worse than “excellent”. About numerous adult guests that would pat him on the head and then proceed into the living room and he would wait for his parents to return until he fell asleep on the floor. About how he liked reading more than anything because it allowed him to switch off what he saw around himself. About how he dreamt of going to adventures in unknown worlds and how it all crumbled when he learned that the only exploration that could be done was the military one. About the hard corset he had to wear to achieve proper posture and about how his classmates mocked him about it. About the pressure to be an ideal galra, like his father before him, to not have any emotion, any weakness, any soft spot and about how everything he did was not good enough. How he wanted to find free spirit and true friends at the university, but only found them in the army, after he left his whole life behind. How he realized he wasn’t hetero and how his parents still tried to couple him some girls in hope of getting grandchildren to avoid the family line from ending. About how he thought Prorok was a fanatical servant to the empire and how he feared not being able to fit in in the fleet. He knew his lover couldn’t relate to any of those problems, but Prorok showed amazing understanding and lack of judgement. He would never criticize or laugh, only pat Thace on the head gently, huff and ask questions, and the lieutenant couldn’t be more thankful for this undemanding support, so different from what he used to get from everyone.

 

To Thace's amazement, it seemed like something has changed for Prorok as well, he started allowing himself things he kept private before. One evening, when they were cuddled together and Thace was already half asleep, he felt his partner slide out of the bed quietly. _He must need the bathroom_ , Thace thought absently, too comfortable to move or speak, but Prorok’s quiet steps disappeared towards the kitchen and Thace heard the door being closed. To the kitchen…. where the medical kit was! Thace jumped up, breathless: _Prorok must have back pains again and he must have decided to inject painkillers to avoid bothering his lover_. Thace reached  the kitchen in two laps and froze at what he saw. Prorok, still half-naked, was bent over in from of the fridge, rummaging in its internals and wiggling his foot impatiently.

 

“What are you doing?” Thace asked, when his lover emerged with a piece of marinated meat and a crunchy cucumber in his hand. Prorok jumped slightly, not having noticed that he had company.

 

“Eating,” he admitted, looking guiltily at the food in his hand. “I always eat after sex. And at night.”

 

“No you don’t,” Thace countered. “This is the first time I see you here at this hour.”

 

“I didn't want to disgust you with my habits,” Prorok sighed, biting off half of the cucumber at once. “I tried to hide it,” he went on, chewing almost as loudly as he spoke, “but I can’t live in misery forever.”

 

_How does he manage to be so adorable? I just want to hug him all the time..._

 

“Nothing about you could disgust me,” Thace murmured, giving in to his wish and putting his hand on Prorok's shoulder. “I just thought you were sick or something.”

 

“No, but I need to replenish my strength.”

 

“From what?” Thace raised his eyebrows mockingly.  “You just lie around, I do all the job!”

 

“I didn’t see you complain, though!” Prorok answered, not offended in the least. “Here, take a bite, my dearest sex machine.”

 

Thace bit the juicy meat off. For some time, they both chewed in silence.

 

“I thought you, of all people, would be appalled. With your self-control and such… healthy habits, ordered lifestyle, you know...” Prorok said after a pause. Thace leaned more into him.

 

“I love everything  about you, I even started liking your endless papers lying around everywhere, why would I suddenly be appalled at you evening snacks? Plus I didn't that you value my opinion so much. I always thought you only did what you wanted to.”

 

“That was before I met you,” Prorok giggled, relaxing. “Now all I do is show off in front of my darling.”

 

Still, the happiness lasted only as long as they were alone. Soon enough, Prorok declared him that he would be speaking to the Emperor and that he was going to present his second-in-command officially.

 

"I would postpone it some more, but it is getting suspicious. Don't think that our Lord forgot anything, though. I think he figured out that you were the one sending requests and I was shielding you, so he will be suspicious of you from now on. And don't get your hopes too high up, the Emperor may be the greatest man who ever existed, but he can be pretty tricky to deal with. For the first time, talk less and nod more, but don't get too scared, you need to answer clearly if he asks you something."

 

 _I am not scared,_ Thace wanted to say, _I hate him and his wretched reign of terror and injustice_ , but instead he just nodded. However, when the holo-panel switched on and he again saw alive the face that looked at him from newspapers all too often, Thace realized that he was too hasty with his judgement. He was scared of Zarkon, and he underestimated the hatred. He remained frozen on his knee, but his hands itched with desire to plunge his blade into the throat behind the dark-red armor. Worried that his face might give out his feelings, Thace once again bowed his head as low as possible. Prorok told his name at the beginning, and Thace managed to utter a "Vrepit Sa" in a steady voice, but otherwise he was not needed. The conversation seemed routine, Prorok reported a successful exploration of new metal mines on one of the worlds, suggested an optimal route for their transportation and asked for newest weapon supplies, then the Emperor disconnected.

 

"Well, that went well," Prorok said with his usual optimism.

 

"How can you remain so calm and content, while I am covered in cold sweat and my knees are shaking?" Thace asked irritably. Prorok noticed his distress and was not offended.

 

"Don't worry," he said sympathetically, hugging Thace. "At the beginning is always a little unnerving, you'll get used to it. The Emperor values good soldiers; you have a great future, Thace."

 

Thace buried his face in Prorok's shoulder and exhaled. He wished he could believe his partner, he wished that being liked by the Emperor was his greatest concern.

 

"Prorok, how do you manage to be so self-secure around Zarkon?" he asked his partner that evening, after they rolled in the blankets, ready to go to sleep.

 

"Emperor Zarkon, Thace," Prorok corrected him in a snide voice. "You need to show more respect."

 

"Emperor Zarkon," Thace repeated. "Aren't you afraid of him? Doesn't it bother you that he can kill you any instant?"

 

"Many things can kill me any instant," Prorok sighed. "If the core reactor of our canon malfunctions, we will become atomic vapor before we even realize it. If I were you, I would be more concerned about that. As for our emperor, he values efficiency and relies on logic, even if his logic takes getting used to. I don't know where you took your ideas about him, but he doesn't actually go around killing people. If you do a good job, you will be promoted and his Majesty will notice your effort... When someone is dismissed or executed, these are traitors!"

 

Prorok's obliviousness to Zarkon's true nature didn't surprise Thace, there was time when he thought the same way. Yet, it made his hopes at over persuading his partner even more feeble. _I will come up with something about it later,_ he thought before sinking to sleep, as Prorok's palm on his back seemed to radiate happiness right into his body.


	11. Chapter 11

One evening, Prorok was late from his shift, busy investigating a death of a soldier on one of the orbit bases, and Thace decided to reorganize his lover’s wardrobe. Prorok had piles of various clothes, uniforms and leisure ones, plus an insane amount of posh underwear and accessories - an incredible luxury for the lieutenant who was used to having just two sets of uniforms and boots. Prorok loved and cared for his rich wardrobe, but there was no system in it and was mostly in disarray. In the mornings, the commander would throw everything out in search for _that one shirt_ he wanted to wear exactly today _(the gray one, no, I meant the anthrazit one, with the rounded collar;  this is dim gray, too formal!_ ), cursing under his breath and angering Thace who hated being late. The whole mess bothered the orderly lieutenant, so he offered his help in arranging Prorok’s clothes several times, but his lover was always either too busy or too lazy to do it. The evening seemed exactly the right opportunity - Thace would start without Prorok, and by the time his lover returns, he would have no choice but to help finish what was already started.

 

Thace began by pulling out everything from the shelves that contained indoor clothes, when something unexpected landed in his arms and made him gasp. Among coats and shirts, Thace was holding the sweater from the party that started his relationship with Prorok. It was to be expected, of course, but the lieutenant was still shocked to see it. He pushef the rest of the pile back onto the shelf and unfolded the knitted sack. The sweater was as soft as he remembered, and when the lieutenant carefully sniffed it, he felt a faint scent of cake. Memories and emotions overflowed Thace as he pressed his cheek into the the soft knitted fabric, all the wonderful moments that happened since then, everything that made him as happy as he often felt now. And at the same time, bitter fear to lose it, to have never experienced it in the first place. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Prorok’s steps outside and only raised his head when his lover was already standing in the doorstep. Prorok looked tired and angry, the bags under his eyes became more visible and the wrinkle between his eyebrows was showing again.  

 

“What are you doing?” commander asked him irritably. “Couldn’t you find another time for your arrangements, I am tired!”

 

“No… I mean yes, of course...”  Thace was still too overwhelmed to contradict his lover properly. Luckily, Prorok immediately understood that something was off.

 

“What’s wrong, honey?” he asked, coming over to Thace and hugging him; aggression immediately gone from his voice. Then, he noticed what Thace was holding.

 

“Oh, you found the sweater, nice! I need to spray it against moths. Why do you look so unhappy?”

 

“I am happy,” Thace answered. “It’s just… This sweater started our relationship. What if you hadn't forgiven me for the incident with the query? What if you hadn’t invited me to your party? And even then, without this sweaters I may have never had you, I would have still been all alone!”

 

“The sweater didn’t start our relationship, we did.” Prorok hugged Thace more firmly. “And if the party hadn’t worked, I would have found other ways to woo you, believe me!”

 

Thace laughed, feeling how his lover’s presence once again released a tight knot in his stomach. He wanted to kiss Prorok’s temple, but his lover had other ideas. He took the sweater from Thace’s hands and tried to pull it over the lieutenant’s head, laughing.

 

“You like it so much? You wear it!”

 

Thace pushed the sweater off, but Prorok kept trying to get it over Thace’s head, giggling mischievously, so the lieutenant had no choice but to fight back. They sank to the floor and Prorok fell onto Thace, pressing him to the ground with his weight. Thace wiggled under him, suffocating with laughter.

 

“Put… it… on….” Prorok panted, but Thace fought like a cornered klanmüüril, not letting his lover push his hand into the sleeve.

 

“Leave… me alone! you…. fetishist!” he managed.

 

“Who’s.. a fetishist… you are!” Prorok suddenly cast the sweater aside and started tickling Thace. The lieutenant uttered a shriek and threw Prorok off himself. Commander fell on his back, whining with laughter.

 

“Didn’t know you were so… sensitive… and a fetishist for sweaters!” he moaned, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

 

“I am no fetishist,” Thace said, carefully picking up the sweater and shaking it to remove the dust that could have stuck to it. “I just treasure valuable things. Something you should do, too!”

 

“I’d prefer if you treasured me instead of my sweater,” Prorok said mockingly. “I have a two closets full of clothes and only one Thace, so my priorities are pretty clear.”

 

“But it’s so soft...” Thace murmured, rubbing his cheek on the sweater.

 

“Hey, I am soft,” Prorok countered. He sounded offended, so Thace immediately turned to him and hugged him.

 

“You are the softest, there is no debate about that. And the fluffiest, too!”

 

Prorok laughed and slid his hand on Thace’s shoulder, but then his fingers caught Thace’s uniform and he froze.

 

"I know why you find the sweater soft,” he said slowly, his eyes sharp again. “Why are you wearing these terrible standard uniforms?" Thace, who had not anticipated this question, just shrugged a little.

 

"What am I supposed to wear? And what's wrong with standard uniforms?"

 

"I have no idea who they make them for, but they just don't sit right. And don't even mention the fabric! That’s why you like the sweater so much, I should have thought about it earlier..."

 

"I don't know..." Thace countered. "They do sit right on me, and I find the fabric just fine..."

 

Prorok uttered his usual low giggle that seemed to be born somewhere deep inside his body and only appeared at the surface as a deep rumble.

 

"Well of course they do, you are built like a model, you gorgeous being," he murmured, wrapping his arm more tightly around Thace's waist and watching lieutenant blush pleasantly. "Still, you need better clothes. Let me take you to my tailor."

 

The Blades shared any source of income completely, and constant lack of money was a everyday situation, so Thace was used to saving on everything, including clothing, plus the lieutenant always had something better to do than decorate his body. He had no idea personal tailors even were allowed in the army, but Prorok was dead set on revising his wardrobe, so the tailor did arrive. An old, slouchy man turned Thace to and fro like a marionette, grabbed him in most embarrassing places and got suddenly irritated when Thace failed to bend his arm under the correct angle. By the time all the measurements were taken, Thace was already sweaty, tired and angry at Prorok, who just sat there, sipping his drink, his eyes sparkling with laughter.

 

But that was just the beginning: now Thace had to choose fabric, cut and colors. The lieutenant managed to decide with the first one, having chosen the most durable of the samples (how different were they from the half-synthetic ones he was used to before!), but last two were a disaster. The tailor treated him like a failure when he couldn't tell the difference between two shades of dark-red, one of which was allegedly a cold color. At this moment Prorok came to help him. Thace did of course notice his commander’s fancy uniforms, but he had no idea Prorok was such an expert in fashion. The older galra flipped through color samples, threw away the first two albums that the tailor offered and poked his finger into some variants in the other two. He and the tailor plunged into a heated discussion about the form of the sleeve, then argued about how tight-fitting the waistline should be. All that remained for Thace to do was to nod and watch out that Prorok doesn't go too much overboard in his wish to make him look like a fancy magazine cover model.

 

Several weeks later, when Thace unfolded the packed clothes, Prorok wiggled impatiently.

 

"Put them on," his older companion urged him. "Let me see you."

 

His hungry gaze was both flattering and unnerving, but when Thace did put the clothes on, he understood why Prorok made him go through all the trouble. He has never been so comfortable in his uniform before. He never even knew that a uniform could be so comfortable: ever since he left his parents’ house and joined the army, he never had money to buy any high-quality clothes. And when he looked at himself in the mirror, he had a weird feeling: this wasn't him looking back, this was someone else. Someone smarter, handsomer, more important. In amazement, Thace looked at Prorok, who was smiling triumphantly.

 

"You look beautiful, my love," he said fondly. "Even better than usual."

 

"Thank you! You were right," Thace had to admit. "It was worth the effort."

 

"Now you need to grow a beard."

 

"A beard?" Thace asked in surprise, tracing his hand along his chin. "I already tried, I don't have a beard face. Plus the hair grows in patches, it looks weird."

 

Prorok giggled.

 

"Of course you have a beard face, honey. Handsome people like you have a face for everything. If I were you, I would go with a goatee for the first step, avoiding the sideburns if you don't have the thickest facial hair. As for for even hair growth, you need to use lotions. I can recommend you a couple."

 

Thace stepped towards Prorok and sat down at his side, feeling his partner's arm wrap around him immediately.

 

"You know everything, don't you?" Thace asked, grinning. "What to wear, what beard to grow… Fancy pants! And you don't have problem with thin hair, mister use-the-lotion!"

 

Thace slid his fingers into Prorok's sideburns and pulled it, making the other galra's head tilt.

 

"Good things in life require work and attention. Use my knowledge while you still can!" Prorok countered solemnly, falling on Thace with his whole weight and putting his head on his shoulder, so that the lieutenant was now pressed towards the armrest. "And don't be a jealous snake, it ruins your charisma."

 

Thace searched through the box, giggling and trying to push Prorok off himself simultaneously, but his hand found nothing.

 

"Get off me, you are heavier than a well-fed weblum… Where is the receipt?" he asked, laughing. "What I need to know is how many monthly allowances I have to spend for this perfection of a uniform."

 

"You don't need to spend anything, everything has already been paid for," Prorok murmured. "The only thing you need to do is let me take it off you."

 

These words felt like a punch in the stomach. Thace inhaled sharply and pushed Prorok back in shock.

 

"Just a little present for my lovely boy," Prorok continued, leaning back, with a smile that suddenly seemed condescending to Thace. "You deserve only the best things in the world."

 

Thace tried to free himself from the hug, but Prorok was holding him tight. _What have I become? Since when do I allow anyone to talk to me like that?_

 

"Only the best for my pretty Thacey," Prorok went on, his hand already groping Thace's crotch, much too bold for the Lieutenant's taste, even he couldn't help the arousal. "I'd wrap you in a ribbon and put you on a shelf, you beautiful doll you..."

 

"What do you think I am, a puppet, a prostitute?” Thace exploded. „I have my own allowance, I don't need charity!"

 

"What?" Prorok gasped and frowned, now releasing the hug and letting Thace jump up. "Would you trust me already? You treat me like an enemy all the time, how long will it last? I just wanted to do something nice for you for a change! You are doing so much for me and I don't give back enough."

 

“Not give back enough? I feed off you like a leech all the time!” Thace blurted out.

 

They looked at each other in amazement for a tick, and then Prorok uttered a strange small sob, hugged Thace by the hips and buried his face in the younger man's stomach.

 

"I am sorry, sweetheart," he moaned with his face hidden. "Please don't be angry. I didn't mean to make you feel used; I thought you’d like it."

 

Thace sank back onto the sofa, pressed his cheek to Prorok's and hugged him as tightly as he could, sudden outburst already over and feeling guilty.

 

"We can't even fight properly, can we?" he asked, and a somewhat strangled laughter was his answer.


	12. Chapter 12

Later that evening, when they were lying in bed, intertwined like siamese twins, Thace kept running the last conversation in his head. He felt ashamed for getting angry at Prorok, but there was something else biting him: he suddenly realized how far he went away from his comrades. _I am not a proper Blade anymore_ , he realized, _I changed_ . _When did I become so weak, so needy? Since when do I even allow people buy me clothes?_

 

While his brothers hid in abandoned battlestations, old houses, among pirates and scoundrels, he now lived in a comfortable, even luxurious environment. While they had a clear vision of what they wanted to achieve, he was torn apart by a conflict of loyalties. _I made a first step on the path of betrayal,_ Thace thought. _I didn't yet abandon the Blade, but I can not be called a faithful member anymore._ _What would Kolivan say if he knew what I am doing? How would Prorok react if he knew he was sleeping with a ticking bomb that could explode in sabotage any second?_ Persuading himself that he had no other choice became more and more difficult with more loving gestures from Prorok. With sickening horror, Thace understood that very soon, he will have to choose between his duty and his love and that there might be no middle ground.

 

He got used to having Prorok around. He let himself be spoiled by the comfort of a happy relationship, by being cared for, by the feeling that he could rely on his partner unconditionally. Being with Prorok felt so natural; he wasn’t forced to give anything more than he was inclined to give, and what he received in return were the emotional riches he could have never dreamt of. When Thace remembered himself a decaphoeb ago, he was horrified at the perspective of becoming as lonely as he was back than. _I can not lose Prorok,_ Thace thought. _No matter what, I can never afford to lose Prorok..._

 

"Thace, let me buy you something, please," Prorok murmured into his ear, circling his finger on Thace’s chest, dragging the lieutenant out of his sad thoughts. "Let me pamper you. I know you have your allowance, but at the end you don't have enough, do you?"

 

"I don't need much, either," Thace countered.

 

"Maybe something small, at least?" Prorok asked hopefully, and his words made Thace's heart contract with a new wave of guilt. Prorok's ability to love passionately and generously didn't cease to amaze him.

 

"I am sorry I lashed out on you before, I really shouldn't have." he said, stretching his arm to caress Prorok's face. "If I have a wounded pride, you shouldn't suffer because of it. And you are right, my funds are pretty scarce, especially now, since my little niece is going to school. She needs a lot of stuff."

 

“You are a too nice person,” Prorok said reproachfully. “You are helpful to a fault. Think about yourself more!”

 

Thace laughed and planted a short kiss on his lover's temple, but then a new thought stroke him.

 

“How do you even know about my financial situation? I never told you about it!”

 

The bedroom lights were dim, but Thace still saw Prorok's eyes twitch, he mumbled something incoherent.

 

“Prorok, were you spying on me or something?” Thace asked in amazement.

 

“No... I mean, yes, but... I... I might have traced money transfers from your bank account.” Prorok admitted, not looking him the eyes. “But this was just one time, I swear!” the commander exclaimed immediately, grabbing his hand. “I... I wouldn't use it against you, ever!”

 

Thace knew he should be angry, but he was just too surprised.

 

“But why? And how is it even possible?”

 

“As your commander, I have access to all your personal data,” Prorok admitted. “This is done rarely, for obvious reasons, but I can access your financial data, among other things. I am sorry, Thace, I swear I only did it once, please, don't hate me, sweetheart!”

 

Prorok sounded like a beggar, and this contradicted his usual self-assured attitude so much that Thace could not quite figure if this was not a huge joke.

 

“But why would you need to do this anyway? What did you want to find in my bank account?”

 

“I didn't know exactly!” Prorok moaned. “You arrived, being so perfect, so handsome and skilled, so attentive, so faultless, so... so... hetero... And at the same time so tense and miserable! I wanted to help you somehow! I wanted to know something about you, any little thing to make me feel closer to you, maybe shed light on what's wrong with you. I could not ask directly: what right did I even have to harass you with my questions? And as for courting, what chances did I have, old and fat, with such a perfect young man? I figured it would not make much damage if I just took one look. It sounds a lot worse now than it seemed back than..."

 

Thace could not help a hysterical giggle.

 

"Well, did it help?" he asked, feeling like in a weird dream. _A couple more queries about the usage of the funds and Prorok could have tapped into the very heart of Blade’s financial flows._

 

"No," Prorok sighed, curling in a fetal position. "It only made things worse. I knew you were kind, but then this, giving almost all your money to your family who wouldn't even invite you for the new year festival... I am sorry, Thace. You have every right to be angry. I really don't deserve you.”

 

Thace sighed and hugged Prorok from the back. _It doesn't matter now, he can't live with Prorok's affection anyway, so there is no reason to fight over the past._

 

"Don't do that again," he said, and these words made Prorok turn back and grab his shoulders.

 

"You won't leave?" he asked, panting, looking into his eyes with such desperation that Thace felt taken aback.

 

"No, of course I won't... Don't beat yourself up so much  over it.” Thace murmured reassuringly. “You are not fat and you are certainly not ugly, I had a crush on you since almost the beginning, I just didn't want to admit it. So that video was a true gift for you, wasn't it?” Thace asked, trying to sound witty, but the other man winced.

 

“No, it was terrible! I first thought I should just delete it without bothering you, but then I needed your input about other probable recipients. I had no idea how to approach it without scaring you, though. And I failed miserably.”

 

“No, you didn't,” Thace tried to sound as convincing as possible. “You made me realize that you care for me, that I was not alone among enemies. I was so thankful to you for your help!”

 

Prorok sighed and looked Thace in the eyes again.

 

“Why did you even think you were among enemies, Thace? You are surrounded by fellow galra.”

 

 _No,_ Thace thought, _not this again._

 

“I didn't know if I could trust anyone here, you know how some fleets are: everyone trying to receive a promotion no matter how. And with my past I am always in danger.”

 

“My sweet paranoid chicken,” Prorok laughed and cupped his face gently like only he could. “You can trust me. I would rather die than let anyone or anything harm you. Ever.”

 

 _I believe you,_ Thace thought. _I am supposed to mistrust everyone including myself, but I believe you like I never believed anyone in my whole life._

 

“I love you, too,” he whispered, nuzzling Prorok’s palm. “I will always help you with anything you require of me! I’ll do anything, just name it... I wish we could get married - what if you find someone else and decide to leave me tomorrow? I wish I could at least mark you as mine, make everyone know that we are together."

 

"Poor Thace," Prorok whispered. "Having to spend his best years hiding like a rat! Though you can be sure of one thing - I won’t decide to leave you, neither tomorrow nor anytime else."

 

"Better hiding with you than being open with some idiot of the same rank," Thace sighed. "But it would be even better if we didn't have to hide."

 

"I, too, wish I could leave my mark on your chest," Prorok said, smiling. "You would be so pretty everyone would die of jealousy."

 

"I love you," Thace whispered, unable to contain a smile.

 

"Oh, really?" Prorok mused. "Such interesting news. Never heard of it."

 

"Well, now you do. I love you, Prorok."

 

The older galra leaned even closer in, now their noses were touching.

 

"Say it again," he begged, his eyes strangely glossy.

 

"I love you," Thace said, closing his eyes. "I love you more than my life. I love you more than my duty. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone."

 

A happy little moan was the best answer he needed.


	13. Chapter 13

The news about Voltron’s arrival came like a wrecking ball to Thace's greenhouse of happiness. During those blissful last quintants, the lieutenant had almost forgotten what it meant to be a Blade, or a battle officer, for that matter. What he did was a job of an accountant, not a soldier, and his thoughts could not have been further from war. The emperor informed Prorok about the new threat while Thace was out gathering reports on the fighter jets, so he learned about it from his lover personally.

 

“Thace, this is our chance!” Prorok exclaimed, his eyes shining. “We have to be the ones who will bring the Emperor this robot!”

 

"Why do you care about Voltron so much? What is in it for you?" Thace asked in amazement. Prorok rolled his eyes.

 

“Are you alright, honey?” he asked sarcastically. “Didn’t you hit your head on the mission? This is the Emperor’s lifelong ambition! Sendak brought his Majesty only the red beast and sacrificed his whole fleet in the process, but look how the Emperor values him! The one who brings Voltron to him will be his right hand for life.”

 

For Thace, this was a shock. The lieutenant knew that now he had to truly fulfill his duty as a Blade and to start active sabotage in his fleet, but he just could not bring himself to harming Prorok’s interests. Right next morning, Thace found a new communicator in his room that seemingly materialized out from nowhere and understood that this was the secure way Kolivan has been speaking of. Now, the leader sent him demands and tasks and urged him to work more actively. Prorok also has changed: his loving cuddly bear was no more. All the laziness has vanished, now the commander burnt with grim energy. He rallied the fleet and declared operational readiness of the highest degree, urging everyone to work at full capacity. No one was allowed to take leaves, the shifts have been prolonged, all fighters were constantly in battle mode. Without any hesitation, Prorok ordered to publicly execute a soldier who was found drunk and sleeping during his shift. Not that Thace sympathized with the ignorant fool, but this battle-ready Prorok terrified the lieutenant, and his heart broke at the very thought of acting behind his back.

 

Other officers reacted differently to the news about Voltron. Hakor beamed with open joy and anticipation.

 

"Finally!" she exclaimed upon hearing the news. "I am so damn tired of flying to and fro with some stupid cargo for Yilvik and never even shooting at some bastards! Me and my boys are going to  get to ‘em before they even realize what hit’em!"

 

The assault teams were also overjoyed, the simulation decks burst with people wanting to train. Thace overheard Safk, who was born and raised on a jungle planet, brag that he would make paladin barbecue.

 

“I bet the emperor will want every piece of them to himself,” Thace said to the soldier. “He’ll make a wall exhibition from their dried heads or something, if he catches them, that is. But anyway - not that the likes of you will get any parts handed out for barbecue.”

 

Thace’s small speech was supposed to make Safk ask his loyalty, and “if” was the key word when it came to catching paladins, but the soldier was not clever enough to swallow the bait: he just rolled his eyes and went on polishing his knife.

 

“A man can dream...” he murmured under his nose, looking offended.

 

Yilvik and the engineers, as well as most of the service personnel, didn't show any emotions, but Thace could feel that they were preoccupied rather than happy. Ellik’s face even grew visibly darker.

 

 _So many galra don’t want to fight for Zarkon,_ Thace thought, sending a corresponding report to Kolivan. _The vast majority, actually._ _But no one of them dares to speak up for fear of others. If only I could inspire them to raise up together!_ However, this remained wishful thinking, and all Thace could do in reality was help Prorok as long as he still could and try to balance everyone's interests.

 

Instead of cuddling, Prorok and Thace now spent evenings revising battle plans and arranging assault team lists. Kolivan ordered Thace to participate in all the operations as actively as possible to always stay informed, so he helped the commander with all his resourcefulness, happy to see Prorok’s thankful glances. One of the first evenings, they have just started going through the escape maneuvers in case of attack by multiple smaller ships, when the communication panel registered an incoming call. Prorok sighed and got up, gesturing Thace to stay in place. The screen showed an unknown galra, round face and long pointy ears. He looked neither particularly smart nor fierce, but his insignia indicated that he was a commander, so Thace stood up to greet him.

 

"What do you want, Morvok?" Prorok asked irritably. "Thace, sit down, for Quiznak's sake, this is not his Majesty!"

 

"Well, _actually_ ," the stranger galra said in a snide high-pitched voice, "your minion knows the etiquette better than you. He is supposed to stand up and remain standing until I allow him to sit down."

 

"I wouldn't call him “minion” if I were you," Prorok answered, putting his hands in a lock behind his back. "Maybe soon you'll be the one to stand up in front of him. What do you want from me?"

 

Morvok inhaled with a smile.

 

"Voltron has reappeared!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "I already ordered to strengthen my defenses! And you are sitting there, not doing anything!"

 

"I've known for three quintants already," Prorok sighed. "Didn't the Emperor inform you?"

 

Morvok looked like Prorok slapped him in the face.

 

"You knew..." he said, his voice disappointed, all his pompousness gone. "No, he didn't..."

 

Prorok was watching Morvok silently with a cold expression on his face.

 

"Listen, Prorok, are you sure it is _the_ Voltron? The one from before?" Morvok finally mewled. Prorok grinned unpleasantly.

 

"Yes, I am pretty sure it is _the_ Voltron, never heard about counterfeits. Scared, dwarf?"

Prorok's mockery enraged the stranger galra.

 

"Aren't you?!" he screeched. "Even the Emperor considers it a threat!"

 

"Well, we are the Emperor's fist, who else will crush the enemy if not us?"

 

"I'll see how you are going to talk when it comes to a battle, glutton!"

 

"Look who's talking!" Prorok laughed out. Morvok went silent and watched him for some time, biting the tip of his huge ear that he stretched all the way towards his mouth.

 

"I don't even have a single proper modern cruiser," he said finally. "My main ship is old junk. If Voltron attacks, what am I supposed to do? Scare them with a war dance? Though we could work together, you know. If we..."

 

Prorok's eyes sparkled dangerously.

 

"I know a way for you to win," he said.

 

"Really? What is it?" Morvok gasped.

 

"Show yourself personally in front of them, they will collectively die of laughter."

 

Prorok disconnected before insulted Morvok could add another word and turned to Thace, giggling.

 

"Are you trying to get in trouble? He is a commander, too!" Thace asked reproachfully, but he also could not help but smile. "What a coward!"

 

"Yes, he is no Sendak," Prorok agreed, sitting down at the table again. "But you are right; don't underestimate the danger coming from him. This is what your Etor would have become, if he was pureblood."

 

"Etor has not been mine for a long time," Thace answered, amazed at how calm this name left him. “Why do you mock this Morvok so much? What did he do?”

 

“The bastard intrigued too well and took the first eon canon that was developed and that I should have received. You see, he has too much cunning, but not enough brain. He didn’t think that the canon needs a lot of entourage to protect it and support in in battle: jets and cruisers, fuel infrastructure and finely calibrated sensors, and a good crew to operate it! He had none of that, so the canon didn’t help him, he lost it in the very first conflict. It is not talked about much - a very shameful defeat for the empire… Since then, he fell out of favor of the Emperor and has to languish in the furthest sector on resource collecting duties. Serves him right, if you ask me, I wonder how he wasn’t executed for his stupidity.  But what audacity: coming to me for recommendations after such lowly betrayal! He must be really desperate...”

 

Prorok snorted angrily when he returned to the documents he was reviewing, but for Thace this was an important information. In case of possible conflict, Prorok was definitely not going to help Morvok; they would rather attack each other than work together. The same could be expected from other commanders, so this piece of information went to Kolivan the very same evening, together with others like it.

 

Guilt did not stop biting Thace, plus he started having vivid nightmares that Prorok might be injured or even killed in battle. Now the lieutenant regretted not having acted up on persuading Prorok to turn to the Blade more actively, while there was still possibility. _Had he even mentioned it, maybe he could have been at the same side as his lover..._ Now that the war broke out, he reasonably feared that any talk of this sort would make Prorok feel betrayed. The lieutenant ran endless conversations over in his head, trying to find optimal words to inform Prorok of his true allegiance and persuade him to join, but none of them ended good.

 

More than once, he felt tempted to just confess everything to his lover and hope for his mercy and understanding. Each time he stopped himself, though, knowing full well that this way he would just be pushing the weight of the decision on innocent Prorok, adding more pressure on the one who had to carry the burden of responsibility for the fleet. Lying sleepless at night, Thace came up with what seemed the only possible plan in the situation: he decided not to tell anything to anyone, to hold Prorok back from actively engaging in battles with Voltron and to make him wait until everything is over. This way, he could still keep his partner safe and simultaneously help the Blade by completely eliminating one of the biggest fleets from the equation of force balance. However, this was easier said than done.

 

“Maybe rushing into the fight with Voltron is not the best idea,” he told Prorok the evening after they received news about the first loss of Sendak’s fleet. “Prorok, Sendak may be a terrible man, but he lacks neither bravery nor battle experience. If he lost…”

 

“If he lost, then this is our chance to learn from his failure and win!” Prorok interrupted him angrily. “I am not Morvok to sit back and shiver!”

 

“Well maybe for once Morvok’s strategy is correct? Why do you, you personally, want to engage in this thing so much?”

 

Prorok frowned and stood up from the table they were sitting at.

 

"I don't know about you, but I don't intend to hide in my chambers for the rest of my life.” He said slowly. “I want to call you mine openly and I will achieve that. Imagine what would happen if we were the ones to bring the Emperor his toy? Imagine the unbelievable honor that would be ours! We could ask anything in return, and I intend to sell this triumph as expensive as possible. I will not be just commander of one fleet, I will be commander-in-chief, and you will be at my side forever, lawfully, you hear? We can get married, Thace, this is not an extraordinary wish! We are no thieves who need to hide behind the closed doors; we will show our love openly, as we deserve it!"

 

Thace opened and closed his mouth like a fish taken out of water, blushing. Prorok didn’t cease to amaze him: the last thing he could have thought of was that Prorok wanted to defeat Voltron to get married.

 

“Well, maybe you are fine with sneaking here in the evening like a beggar, then, of course, you do not need to worry!” Prorok added in a venomous voice and sat back down.

 

This last comment tore Thace out of his shock.

 

"Who do want to show our love to?” he asked sarcastically. “Zarkon? Do you really need his blessing to kiss me? And what will you show if one of us doesn't even survive? Prorok, this game is not worth it!"

 

"Well, maybe for you it isn't!" Prorok snapped, but Thace saw that he was hurt rather than angry.

 

"What if the empire loses?"

 

"The empire won't lose! The empire cannot lose as long as I have to say anything about it! What's wrong with you, Thace, you were never a coward?"

 

"I am not! I just choose my fights!"

 

Prorok straightened and looked at Thace coldly.

 

"This is open treason, lieutenant. By laws of war, I would have to execute you for spreading panic and ignoring your duties!"

 

Both men remained silent for some time, eyeing each other.

 

"We are getting Voltron no matter what, you hear me, Thace?" Prorok said finally.

 

“Yes, commander,” Thace answered, feeling bitter resentment clutch his heart. There was no way to turn Prorok to the Blade’s cause after all, he was faithful to the monster and to the Empire. A wall grew between them and now Thace could feel it very clearly…

 


	14. Chapter 14

"Stay here," Prorok hissed that evening, pushing Thace into the sleeping room, "I don’t want you to appear in front of the Emperor for now, with your low spirits."

 

He hurried into the study and Thace heard the signal of the communication panel, then monster's voice. The closed door muffled all the sounds, and it seemed to Thace that he has been encased in a glass egg and could only look outside helplessly. Desperation and resentment built a painful knot in Thace's throat, and he rummaged around himself, trying to find something to hold on. His hand caught Prorok's nightshirt, crumbled in a messy knot, so he buried his face in the soft fabric. The shirt smelled of Prorok; Thace inhaled the familiar scent and closed his eyes that already started watering.

 

_No, Kolivan, you are wrong. This is not about the empire, clenching its tentacles on innocent planets. This is about Prorok. My Prorok. This is about his soft belly and tender kisses, his midnight snacks and unconditional acceptance. I am not going to sabotage an evil organization; I will have to betray the man who put his career in danger twice to save me, while still barely knowing me. He will run in circles, not knowing where his problems come from, and I am supposed to watch him coldly, calculating my next move? I will never do it!_

 

_You can keep your icy rigor to yourself and scare other new recruits. I am not your soldier anymore; I am Prorok's beloved boy. I swore you an oath, but didn't I swear one when I told Prorok I loved him? Isn't it my duty to help my partner with anything I have? Why do I believe you above him, Kolivan? I don't owe you anything…_

 

Thace's thoughts became puffy and heavy, like those pillows Prorok liked to surround him with. Voltron would be defeated, they would have the honor to bring the Emperor his toy and they would exchange the marks. They would belong to each other for the rest of their lives. Maybe they would not even need to stay in the army anymore, they could settle on one of the planets. Prorok would kiss him goodnight every single evening and Thace would finally be completely honest with his lover. This constant loyalty conflict would be gone and he would finally be able to concentrate on his lover, live just for him, belong only to him. It would be just Prorok and their love for him now on.

 

Then, a small cold voice inside his head woke up again.

 

_Love in an Empire where sleeping with a half-blood can cost you a career..._

_In an Empire that sniffs out every resistance and skins its foes alive, hanging their bodies for display..._

_Love with Prorok, who said that you would not be yourself if you were not a galra..._

_With Prorok, who only cares for his own species..._

_Who finds the destruction of all life on Nei-Kari an acceptable solution..._

_When the Blades finally may achieve their millennia-long goal…_

_When Voltron is a chance to save billions of lives from oppression…_

_Maybe the only chance there will ever be..._

Thace already knew what he had to do, but it was too difficult to admit.

 

 _No_ , he moaned internally, _this shouldn't be like that. I just need more time to overpersuade him_.

 

_But there is no time. The paladins of Voltron are risking their lives every hour, they were almost captured already and they need all the help they can get. Other members of the Blade are dying right now, because their honor and their beliefs do not let them act otherwise. You have no honor anymore, you sold it for a tasty meal and a good dick._

 

 _Yes, I did,_ Thace whined to himself, _and this was the best deal of my life. He makes me happy the way I never thought was possible! Prorok truly, genuinely loves me and this is all I need. It doesn't matter if he is cruel to aliens!_

 

 _Doesn't it?_ The voice grew louder now. _Will you really be able to live, knowing that you betrayed people who put their faith into you? Will you forget and abandon everything and everyone you held dear and right? Will you be able to watch Kolivan skinned alive when you turn the holo-transmission on next time? Will you smile when the Altean princess is thrown into a pit and torn apart by wild beasts? Will you cheer when the immortal monster puts his hands onto the most powerful weapon in the universe and seals shut the last hope of ever defeating him?_

 

_How will you feel when you see the next massacre of the innocent and know that you didn't do anything to prevent it? How will you look at yourself in the mirror after every Blade apart from you is sniffed out and murdered? How will you go on living with yourself? How many orgasms will it take to forget what you have done?_

 

Thace took Prorok’s shirt off his face, feeling cold and empty and scared.

 

"Lord, I suggest that we move the fleet right now," Prorok said in the next room, his voice borderline aggressive. "I can't understand why we linger; we need to crush the worthless scum without delay!"

 

Thace swallowed. He knew what he had to do.


	15. Chapter 15

Thace started sending off codes and locations, lists of members and battle plans. He and Prorok were called to the central command daily, so he also reported everything he noticed there. Thanks to his reports, the Blade was informed about everything Zarkon planned and did and helped Voltron, anticipating the Empires next move. Thace's moral battle did not end the evening when he listened to Prorok talking to Zarkon, it was raging in his soul ever since without rest.

 

 _This is not so bad,_ he thought. _I would not let anything happen to Prorok. Yes, the fleet would lose some battles and Zarkon would be angry, maybe even demote him, but soon, it will stop mattering. Zarkon's reign will end, and I will make sure that Prorok starts a good life in the new world we are going to create on the ruins of the empire. It would be only fair - he would do anything to accommodate me in the old life, now I will do the same for him in the new one. I will speak for him in case there will be a trial, and I will kill anyone who dares to attack him._

 

Zarkon did not engage their fleet for some reason, though. Instead, Prorok and Thace were supposed to listen to the reports of other people, watch footage of battles with Voltron and endure Zarkon’s outbursts of anger that grew more violent as time passed. Thace did his best to appear calm and collected, but each time he was confronted with the monster and his sinister companion, he felt icy tentacles of fear squeeze his intestines.

 

Prorok got more and more agitated, even overwrought as the time passed. He saw an opportunity in front of himself, but it was a forbidden fruit, and he had to watch passively as other people tried and failed at getting it. In their rare moments together, Thace tried to calm him down, dissuade him from acting, but it got more and more difficult. Prorok's entire active, energetic nature demanded effort, and his pride was wounded when he saw others being assigned the job he so wished for himself. Unable to change anything, he lashed out on Thace more and more often and even called him a coward once, even if he apologized directly afterwards. There was never enough time for them to properly reconcile and speak, so their relationship grew more distant, formal. The paper-thin wall between them grew thicker at an alarming rate. _I wish we were on the same side,_ Thace kept thinking, his heart heavy. _If only I could truly support what you believe in, really be at your side instead of faking it._ He knew himself to be too vary on times, too hesitant. How he wished to just follow his partner's energy, let it become his own, never know any concerns that troubled him daily. Alas, all that remained for him was to maneuver, lie here and persuade there, and constantly shiver internally in agony of fear for his partner's life.

 

Prorok spent all of his unreleased energy into the last thing that was left for him to do - speeches. Before, Thace wasn’t particularly invested in his lover’s presentations. Preparing his texts was seemingly the only thing Prorok liked to do without his assistant, writing and tearing to pieces counteless drafts until he found the best words; as for his technique, it was so polished after years of practice that he hardly needed any help with it, either. He would receive a message about required topic and length from Zarkon, then brood about the text for several days, being even more negligent and irritable about bureaucracy than usual and bringing Thace into helpless rage with " _oh so important, yes, each one of them"_ scribbled notes covering the floors of his quarters. One day, he would suddenly beam up, rush to his study, type as if his life depended on the speed, then disappear for grooming and recording for half a day. A week later, Thace would hear his voice from some soldier’s radio.  The lieutenant himself didn’t have much time to watch transmissions after his arrival on Prorok’s flagship, so he was not confronted a lot with what his lover preached. He knew, of course, but it went past him, because his soul was so full of happiness. However, now that the war broke out, visual and audio communications poured out of every corner.

 

“My fellow Galra! You are invincible as long as you are united!” Prorok seemed to look right at Thace from the screen. “To stay strong, you only need to overcome the strife in your heart. There is no race in the universe that has such versatile and unique talents as us. No other race deserves absolute dominance as we do! We don’t fight for theories and dogmas. We fight for the glory of galran race!”

 

“The rebirth of our nation on the ruins of the old Daibazaal wiped out the state of treason and perjury, and built an empire of honor and loyalty in its place!”

 

The same voice that whispered sweet nonsense into Thace’s ear just a couple of nights ago was now spitting out these terrible, stupid, bloodthirsty phrases! The same eyes that looked at the lieutenant with such a soft, enamoured expression now burnt with hatred and resolution! To Thace, it seemed that he found himself in a twisted nightmare.

 

“Not the numbers decide the outcome of the battle, but the will. A skillfully led will of the few will always triumph over formless, spineless majority! A soldier if his Majesty can be not be anything else but loyal, diligent, disciplined, resolute and ready for self-sacrifice - otherwise, they are no Galra. For us, it is not enough to say “I believe”, for us there is an oath: “I will fight!”. All for one and one for all!” Prorok’s voice reached its peak, but it didn’t break, but sank into an enraptured gasp. The commander continued quietly, but then his voice grew stronger again.

“Let them say that we are not humane - if we bring the empire to victory, it will the the most humane deed there ever was. Let them say that we are not always fair - our victory is the fairness we seek. We are only a tool in Emperor’s hands, in the hands of higher necessity. Are we there or are we not anymore doesn’t matter. All that matters is glory of the empire!”

 

Prorok, the one who ate a dozen cookies in one varga and liked being brushed from head to toe, was now busy recording these appeals for suicide, and for all Thace knew about his lover, he believed in what he spoke about! Though the lieutenant slowly started wondering if he even knew his lover at all...

 

“Our state is only living the age of its youth.” Prorok exclaimed on screen, his eyes shining. “After millenia, it will conquer the whole universe and reach its maturity, but you may be sure - together with our glorious Emperor, it is destined to live forever!”

 

Every radio transmission has turned into a bomb field: “Neither Nazcxella nor any other planet can be called the main pillar supporting our empire. A strong state has never been and will never be just a set of territories. The main pillar of our strength are the galran people and their devotion to their state and their ruler! Together, we shall crush our enemies and wipe out the foul scum that dares oppose our regime!”

 

 _Prorok never oppressed the aliens, nor did he partake in the inhumane experiments the empire conducts, he just talks about it._ The voice in Thace's head tried to disagree with the last statement, but Thace shut it out. His sweet memories with Prorok were the only happy thing he had left to hold on in the sea of danger and hatred that surrounded him. And yet, he couldn’t rely just on those memories…

 

“You sure sound persuasive on the TV,” he said in the evening, when he once again found his partner on the couch, frozen over a draft of a new speech, gnawing a pen, his eyes glassy and meaningless, lips moving silently. “Am I bothering?”

 

Prorok winced and looked at Thace with absent eyes.

 

“Ah… no, of course you aren’t, I am always happy to see you… Thank you, my love, you praise means a lot. I have to write so much in so little time.” Prorok smiled at Thace the same way he always did, openly and charmingly. The loving Prorok was back, as if it wasn’t him the lieutenant so just a couple doboshes ago, demanding  no mercy for anyone who opposes the empire!

 

“How can you write such passionate speeches? Where do you even take inspiration?” Thace asked, sitting down at Prorok’s side. _Maybe he just repeats and rephrases some older texts that I know less about? Maybe these are Zarkon’s words, not his own?_ Prorok laughed.

 

“Oh, you flatterer! Inspiration, huh. No inspiration, just a little common sense and knowledge what happens in the empire.” He looked at Thace, who was still waiting for continuation. “I don’t know...” he added, taken aback. “Just out of my head, I guess?”

 

 _So these are his own words, his own thoughts, after all. He discovers all these disgusting constructs on his own…_ The feeling of resentment was so strong that Thace nearly cried out in pain. _There was no sweet Prorok after all. All there was was this man who wants nothing better than to bring his master the heads of his enemies and expects juicy bone in return!_

 

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Prorok asked, looking at Thace attentively. “Do you think I should change something? Say it, I’m always looking for new ideas!”

 

“No, no!” Thace exclaimed. “You are so good at it, I don’t have much to add, I like it the way it is...”

 

All he wanted right now was to hide somewhere and be alone, wait until this pain in his heart lessens! But Prorok wouldn’t be Prorok if he didn’t understand what his lover felt without words.

 

“You don’t like my speeches,” he said slowly, looking directly at Thace. “And you dislike them for their content, not the form, I know you like the way I talk. Why would you feel like that?”

 

He sat straight on the sofa and turned Thace toward himself by the shoulder, his fingers unusually stiff.

 

“Listen, Thace, I don’t know what is happening to you and I have neither time nor room to find out right now. I know for a fact that you are not a coward, but you behave as one ever since we heard about Voltron. And not just as a coward, but a traitor, waiting to commit his crime.”

 

Thace gasped and tried to free himself, but Prorok was holding him tightly. The commander’s face was suddenly so close that the tip of his nose almost touched Thace’s.

 

“For your own sake, whatever it is, keep it to yourself, Thace!” he whispered. “Whatever your concerns about the Empire are, whatever your history with it is, right now is not the time to express your unhappiness! I love you above anyone else, but my ability to protect you is limited, you are an adult and a battle officer, after all. One wrong step and you will be executed as a traitor before I can even move a finger. Please, Thace, wait until the war is over. I promise you, then I will listen to you, I won’t judge you no matter what you did, and I will help you cover up any evidence that might be left. Just please, Thace, please, don’t do anything stupid! Don’t try to become a martyr for whatever you really believe in! I don’t care about your morale, your job is to stay unharmed until we can both face this issue, you hear me? And don’t even think about betraying me before that, I will be watching your every step.”

 

Thace opened and closed his mouth, speechless with shock. _How long has he known? When did he started noticing? And he didn’t do anything to me?_

 

“I… I’m not… I wasn't…” he started.

 

“I know you haven’t done anything unforgivable yet, keep it this way.” Prorok interrupted him. “If you were a regular officer, I would have just locked you up in your room until the war is over, then dealt with your situation privately. This way, we both would be safe. With my personal assistant, it will inevitably raise an avalanche of questions. In your position, you are either trustworthy or dead. You will stay free, Thace, I will take that risk, but Quiznak forbade you from making even one wrong step: I would never harm you, but if you act up against the empire, I will kick you so far out that you won’t even know if you are alive or not!”

 

Prorok watched him for several ticks, then pushed him away slightly, his face grew sad.

 

“I am busy, honey,” he said, turning away and looking back into his sheet, but the lieutenant noticed how his face fell at Thace’s inability to contradict what has been true. “I’d rather remain alone for now.”

 

Thace stood up, his eyes burning, an inch away from dropping to his knees, breaking in tears, begging Prorok for forgiveness and telling him everything, handing everyone over just to wipe that sad wrinkle off his lover’s forehead. Just to be truly with him... Then he remembered the starved neikarians and the witches ghastly shadow, and felt something in him die. He made a step back, feeling like stepping away from a terrible abyss, turned and headed for the door, but stopped just before pressing the button to open it.

 

“I love you, Prorok, I mean it. I was always faithful about that...”

 

For the first time, silence was his answer.

 

In his quarters, Thace took his luxite blade out of its hiding place and put it into the inner pocket of his coat. Prorok would not order to search him personally, but his chambers can’t be perceived as private anymore. Kolivan’s communicator was a standard army one, legally registered and therefore could not serve as evidence against the lieutenant as long as it didn’t contain any suspicious messages. Thace considered telling the leader about what happened, but then decided against it: he wouldn’t be able to explain the situation properly without revealing his connection to the commander. Once again, he was left all alone, and, worse even, he knew that Prorok was also sitting in his luxurious chambers alone, biting his pen, with no one to hug him.

 

 _He feels it,_ Thace thought. _He has no evidence, but he needs none. It is just like with Ferrik back then - he only looked into the numbers to support what was already clear to him. My darling Prorok, he knows I am untrustworthy, but he refuses to harm me anyway! He is ready to bend his own moral code for my sake, protect me even he suspects that I might betray him the next day. I wish I could do the same, be as faithful to him as he is to me..._

 

Never in his life did Thace feel as bad about his allegiance to the Blade as in that evening. Never did he feel so dirty, so worthless, never did his own behaviour disgust him more. And yet he had no choice - the path he went was one without a return option. He would have to bear knowing that his partner feels betrayed and not doing anything about it. Thace grit his teeth: _afterwards. Leave everything for afterwards. Afterwards, I will be there only for him. I will do everything just for him._

 

Thace didn’t know how he should behave towards his partner now, if he was still allowed to be with him in private. Later the same evening, Prorok sent him a message asking where he was, so Thace rushed back to his quarters that now felt more like home than his own. Prorok was already preparing to sleep. When Thace exited the shower, the commander has already turned off the lights. Thace slid under the blanket and hugged Prorok from behind, like he always did, and felt that his partner caught his hand.

 

“I won’t give up on you that easy,” Prorok said, invisible in the darkness, but as palpable and present as ever before. “I will pull you out of all troubles even against your will; I will keep you safe until the end no matter what. I will make sure that the empire wins and you taste this victory, even you don’t deserve it.”

 

Thace inhaled the scent of his partner’s shampoo. _Sweet devoted Prorok, my love and treasure… The empire won’t win, not this time. Very soon, all that you are trying to enforce will crumble, but I will be the one to make sure that you don’t perish with it._

 

“I won’t give up on you either, my love,” he whispered back.

 

Too much was happening around them, to many people dying too rapidly, too many dangers lurking at every corner. Voltron turned the empire into a minefield within mere days and they had to maneuver around. Neither of them were ready to fight each other or to confront problems that emerged on the inside of their relationship, so they both effectively pretended that the evening conversation never took place. Thace noticed Prorok look at him sharply when he started communications sometimes and the commander now kept his assistant at his side most of the time, but otherwise, nothing changed. Thace still had complete access to commander’s papers and he still arranged and prepared every order that would be published in printed form, and he still slept with Prorok, even if his lover sometimes seemed absent. The commander still discussed all his plans with Thace and Thace did his best to be as useful as possible… before sending the data to Kolivan.

 

Prorok’s agitation grew so much that he started being borderline demanding with the emperor. He even accused Zarkon’s witch of holding him back on purpose.

 

“What are you doing?” Thace gasped after they exited into one of the corridors. “Calm down, you can’t address them that way!”

 

Prorok looked past him, as if the lieutenant was just one more of the pesky soldiers.

 

“The witch has his ear,” he said slowly. “Maybe we need to act on our own...”

 

To Thace's horror, this wasn't just a single thought - Prorok was determined to engage the fleet. At the cost of several loud disagreements, Thace managed to persuade his partner to at least take covert measures. Prorok ordered Thace to send offers to bounty hunters in the sector to capture the lions and inform them about the whereabouts of Voltron and the Altean castle ship. To the lieutenant’s surprise, it actually worked almost immediately: two scoundrels contacted Prorok directly and promised him the blue lion. Thace even started worrying slightly, but he exhaled when they predictably lost their cargo. He felt no remorse sending the fighters to capture and punish the unlucky bastards for their failure. After all, no one made them get involved with things they couldn’t process. However, their loss only worsened the situation: Prorok, enraged by this failure, decided to take decisive actions. When they overheard the communications and located Voltron at the Balmera, Prorok sent the fighters into hyperjump. When they reported having cornered the lions on Balmera, Prorok uttered a muffled yelp.

 

“This is it, Thace!” he exclaimed. “This is what I have been telling you! Come with me, we need to report this to the Emperor immediately!”

 

Thace trailed behind him, his heart torn apart by a terrible premonition. He knew he should have been happy for Prorok, or be afraid for the paladins of Voltron, but instead he dreaded something he couldn’t quite process. Turned out he was right: instead of praising Prorok, Zarkon lashed his terrible wrath on the poor commander. He accused Prorok of pursuing his own interest and seeking own glory (ironically, the monster was somewhat right), so that Prorok left the room out of favor.

 

“What does he want from me?!” the commander roared when they returned to their flagship, slamming his fist on the table again and again when they remained alone. “I brought him Voltron on a silver platter and he dares call me fool?! I was this close to capturing it!”

 

He panted with rage, his mad eyes burnt through Thace. He looked truly terrifying, but the lieutenant’s heart contracted with compassion for his partner once again. _Poor Prorok_ , Thace thought. _He truly is faithful to the monster, and receiving such a reward must have felt excruciating_.

 

“The black lion is too personal for him,” he answered, putting his hand on the side Prorok’s neck, diving his fingers in commander’s fur in a soothing gesture. “We should stick to his orders from now on, to avoid angering him more. Forget your ambition for a while, I can’t allow anything happen to you.”

 

For the first time, Prorok just nodded instead of contradicting. _Maybe this is for the best? If Zarkon doesn’t trust Prorok any more, maybe he will leave him alone? If the commander doesn’t seek confrontation himself anymore, he should be fine…_

 

“You truly do have a heart of gold, my love,” Prorok said, turning his head to kiss the inner part of Thace’s wrist, startling the lieutenant who didn’t expect such tenderness right now, not after everything that happened between them. “I have been suspecting you, treating you like a traitor… I was so wrong! You are maybe the only one I can eve rely on! I am so sorry for mistreating you, can you forgive me, my love? I promise I’ll make up for it after the war ends!”

 

“Honey, don’t beat yourself up… We are all nervous and paranoid now.” Thace murmured, leaning in to kiss Prorok in order to hide that he was dying with  shame on the inside. _You were absolutely right about me,_ he thought. _Now you are just trying to wipe out your own sane judgement, because you have too much to process and you want to persuade yourself -that you can trust me._ Prorok laughed into his palm and nipped the side of his hand.

 

“My darling loves me back,” he said wittily. “With such a brilliant being around, I am invincible!”

 

The day before Voltron attacked the main base, a direct communication from the emperor awoke Prorok and Thace in the middle of the night. Zarkon ordered them to relocate the whole fleet into the direct proximity of the base. Thace and Prorok exchanged glances - they both knew what that meant. As a punishment for Prorok's insubordination, Zarkon decided to throw his fleet into the slaughterhouse of the main battle. Thace didn't want to even imagine what Prorok was feeling right now, given how much he cared about his crew. The emperor summoned the commander soon afterwards, so Prorok departed, his face cold and absent; it was Thace’s task to manage the hyper-jump for all the ships and rearrange them after arriving in the incredible tightness of the space around the base. He thanked Prorok’s diligence with battle training countless times that day, as well as his generosity with equipment: only so could everyone know what to do and nothing broke down.

 

After Thace inspected the pilots who now took their places in their jets near their respective exits gates and wished Hakor good luck, he also appeared on the bridge. Prorok quickly whispered him what he knew – that the Princess is still in the base and that the Emperor expects Voltron to appear to save her. To his surprise, Thace almost did not feel any compassion for the girl; his every thought was now directed on surviving this day. He sent off the news to the Blade and joined Prorok, Raht and other commanders before the Emperor.

 

"This day, the paladins will be destroyed, and I will have Voltron!" the monster announced, and Thace shivered, because Zarkon sounded very convincing.

 

Prorok shot him a tiny supportive glance, and the lieutenant suddenly had trouble keeping a stupid smile off his face. _He cares enough to think about me even now! Maybe everything would be fine, just a little bit of time is left until the monster stops mattering._ When Voltron appeared, Thace was lucky to be at the controls, because he could not suppress a quiet gasp at the beauty and might of the huge robot. Crushing might that would bring death to many on this base before the local sun makes one turn…

 

"Engage the solar barrier immediately; attack! All fighters, attack!" Zarkon roared as Voltron approached, and Thace obeyed. He was unable to do anything without compromising his cover, so he allowed his military instincts to take the better of him.

 

"Thace, engage the fighters," Prorok said, his voice hoarse with anticipation, and Thace slid his finger over the screen, alerting everyone in the docs, sending them off to where most of them will never return from. _Goodbye Hakor. You don’t stand a chance here, your emperor sacrificed you senselessly. Your sons will have to shave their heads in grief after today._ He hardly noticed Zarkon disappear with his witch, Hakor’s narrow toothy face seemed burnt into his mind.

 

During that battle, for the first time, Thace saw Voltron in all its unimaginable battle power. The ancient war machine toppled three cruisers on each other like children's toys! _Goodbye Yilvik, you insisted on staying in the head cruiser, close to the eon canon to be able to personally supervise the repairs if it malfunctioned. Goodbye assault teams 3 and 5. Bloodthirsty idiot Safk never got a chance to even get close to those he wanted to turn into the barbecue._

 

And yet Voltron had a weak spot, too: Thace gasped when the huge robot broke up under Zarkon's mental attack. The lieutenant watched the black lion being dragged into the base helplessly; there was nothing he could do, no way could he help the paladins. Could it be that it was already too late to oppose Zarkon, that it was always too late?

 

"Sire, the hall has been breached! It is one of the lions!" Prorok roared into the communicator; and Thace felt his heart leap with joy.

 

But even if they managed to get the princess out, reassemble Voltron and run, they would still be held down by the solar barrier… Thace knew he had to act now. He slid out from the bridge as the emperor engaged in the fight with the red lion and Prorok was busy yelling commands to the remaining cruisers. He knew he had to act fast he wanted to avoid being noticed. _The blade does not betray its allies no matter how dangerous the situation is..._ Plus he saw with his own eyes what Voltron is capable of, they would surely win if they escaped this time! He pulled his luxite blade out as he approached the control center. _Nothing would happen, every time he had his weapon with him, everything went well._ A sentry down. Another sentry. Somewhere deep inside, Thace was happy that he did not have to fight and kill some unsuspecting galra. At last, the control center! He pulled the lever and watched the barrier dissolve; the castle ship slipped away through the wormhole.

 

“Stay alive and report at any cost.” Kolivan sent him shortly after the castle ship disappeared in the wormhole. “Do not save anyone but yourself. You will be needed soon.”


	16. Chapter 16

Immediately after returning to the base after the battle with the red beast, enraged Zarkon summoned them in the throne room. Thace's hope that they would  depart to their flagship to inspect losses and repair withered. Someone had to pay for the sabotage Thace committed.  _ Surely they would never find the culprit, though. There were too many people in the main base, too much hassle… _

 

Prorok took the wrong tone from the beginning, while Thace could only writhe internally, unable to help. It was as if Prorok’s keen understanding of people’s nature betrayed him, letting his pushy side take the better of him.

 

“Haggar overstretched the power of the solar barrier beyond its normal limits!” he started.

The woman frowned.

 

“This was no mechanical failure. The two sentries guarding the barrier were found destroyed.”

 

_ I had no time to clean up, _ Thace thought.  _ I risked getting caught. There was nothing I could do.  _ Zarkon looked down at Prorok silently, and, for the first time, Thace saw commander’s ears lower in fear. Prorok knew what it meant - someone in his own fleet was the cunning saboteur, someone he trusted! And Thace had a sickening feeling that his lover knew who to suspect...

 

“Lord Zarkon, I will start an investigation immediately. I will not rest until the perpetrators are captured…”

 

Prorok sounded desperate, and Thace suffocated with helpless fear.  _ What to do? How to help? Even if he gave himself in this instance, Prorok would still be executed for letting a traitor to go unnoticed for so long. Everything happened too fast! If he rushed to defend Prorok now, they would both be murdered. The exit was guarded by several sentries, not to mention the monster’s bayard and the terrible power of the witch. _ There was no escape, and so Thace froze, kneeling, weak and useless, praying to all gods that this ends well.

 

“Perhaps I can save us months of investigations.”

 

Zarkon’s words fell like boulders on Thace, each one crushing his heart more, paralyzing him with despair.  _ I deserve to die, but I can’t fail my brothers yet! _

 

“Who has tried to chase Voltron away from me this entire time?”

 

_ What? No, no, no! Not now! Not yet! Let him be, you monster!  _ Prorok shrinked in front of Thace.

 

“Who sent his fleet out without my orders to get Voltron?”

 

“Sire, no, I.. I would never do that!” the commander exclaimed in desperation.

 

“Get rid of him,” the monster ordered.

 

The world froze completely around Thace, everyone acted as if in slow motion.  _ This is the moment of ultimate choice. He could still attack the guards and have at least the decency to die with partner if he was foolish enough to miss the opportunity to live with him. Everything before was just a silly game, now was the time. _ He had to see either Prorok or Voltron and the rest of Blades die.

 

“No, I’m innocent!” Prorok moaned.

 

Thace remained kneeling, not moving a muscle. As if from distance, he watched himself betray the only man who ever truly loved him, look down dutifully as he was being dragged out to receive punishment worse than death.  _ Punishment for the crime Thace committed. _

It didn’t take much  time to hear what followed his own fate:

 

“You will be in charge of the investigation… commander Thace.”

 

Later that day, they informed him that Prorok has been transformed into a ro-beast and died while attacking Voltron. Thace’s face didn’t tremble even slightly. He finished his duties and headed off to his chambers, where he fell on his bed helplessly, for memories to haunt him.


	17. Chapter 17

A new message arrives and the beeping of the communicator tears Thace out of his desperate thoughts. He gets up from the bed and reads it: Ulaz died fighting what had been Prorok, but this is allegedly a good thing, because now the paladins of Voltron are more inclined to trust the Blade of Marmora. Thace shuts down his communicator, takes his blade and goes to the bathroom. There he sits down on the floor and pulls the knife out of the scabbard, watches it unfold into a sword. Terrible fear that has been biting him throughout the last time is gone. This is it. He is supposed to mourn his fallen comrade, and admire the leader's smart move that brought them closer to Voltron, but he forgot about them the instant he let the communicator fall. Only now he truly understands what he has done.

 

_ Prorok is dead. Dead. Dead, and nothing can bring him back. Prorok is gone, and now Thace is alone, forever. _ Forever turns out to be such a terrifying word.  _ Gone forever… _

 

Thace brushes tears off his eyes and presses the blade to the place where the neck connects to the shoulder, where he feels his pulse in the vein. One movement and it is going to be over.  _ He failed. He couldn't protect the only man he loved, the only one who truly cared for him. _ Now, what has been been the oasis of their love is despoiled, and Thace was the one who opened the gate for the intruders to enter. The whole world seems an icy desert, and there is no salvation from the frost, no way to stop this merciless pain in his chest.  _ There is no reason to live without Prorok. _ Prorok will never lean over him to look at something at the table, and he will never feel the pleasant weight of his body. Prorok will never kiss him until he begs for continuation. Prorok will never listen to him the way he did, with this complete concentration, as if what he says is the most important thing in the world. Prorok's palm will never cup his cheek, his fur will never tickle his nose, his gaze will never send goosebumps down his spine. Thace will never inhale the scent of his shampoo, never listen to his advice, never hug him when suddenly awoken in the middle of the night. Never kiss his belly and tell him how he loves him.

 

And above all the grief, there is guilt.  _ I was the one to betray him, _ Thace thinks.  _ Not someone else, but me. I had a choice, and I chose to send him to death. My cowardice, my lack of decisiveness sealed his fate. I should have known that he was too high in the ranks to survive the fall of the empire. I should have found another way, no matter what it would have cost me. He died for what I have done, for my mistake of not getting rid of the sentries! He risked everything when he chose to protect me, fully aware that I am untrustworthy, and how did I repay him? I am a disgusting rat who bit into the throat of a man who never wished me anything bad, a despicable traitor, doomed to wallow in his useless regrets for the rest of his days. I gave him out and let Zarkon… _

 

Zarkon!

 

Thace gasps and opens his eyes. If he was to die now, then Zarkon and his witch would win. They would go on ruling and everything he had done, his whole betrayal would be in vain. Prorok's death would be in vain! Thace looks at the blade at his throat, as if seeing it for the first time, and throws it on the floor; then he gets up. No, he won't die. He won't let them win. They may have taken his love away from him, but they will not stop him from having his revenge. He will wipe them and all their sycophants out. He goes back into the room and starts typing the message to Kolivan.

 

"I have a plan on sabotaging the central base from inside. We need..."

Thace’s situation would be truly hilarious, being in charge for the investigation of his own betrayal, if it was not so dangerous. Haggar knows that one from Prorok’s men opened the solar barrier, so she keeps Thace on a short leash. 

 

“There is a traitor in our ranks. We shall find him out...”

Her whole being is one grim premonition, and even the hiss of her robes radiates danger, but it doesn’t bother Thace. Every horror that could happen to him already happened when Prorok was dragged out of the throne room. Every piece of fear and grief he could feel he already felt. His heart is full of pain like a wet sponge, and it cannot take any more emotions inside, even if a whole ocean washes over it. When Haggar asks him if he knows about the spy, he does not have to calm himself down to answer her - he really does not feel anything particular. When the druids try to threaten to murder him, he laughs internally.

 

_ I am already a dead man, _ he understands.  _ Thace the living being is gone, he died the second when Thace, the member of Blade of Marmora, didn't move when his love was dragged to his imminent death. _ Now there is nothing that can stop him from acting to his duty. When he walks along the corridors of the base that would soon cease to exist, he feels deadly and unstoppable. Kolivan’s orders are his absolute priority now. If the leader told him to kill each and every person around him, Thace wouldn't ask for a second time.

 

They do capture him eventually, of course. There was no way he could fool them long enough;  they apprehend him when he tries to retrieve the data stick with the virus. The culprit is only too clear, so they don't waste time on accusational speeches. When they tie him to the electrical post, the druids look him into the face, but there is nothing. Thace is not afraid of pain. He is not afraid to die. If anything, death is the only thing he deserves now for what he did to his partner. 

 

It hurts, of course. It hurts more than he could imagine. His body is still alive, and it screams for release... Thace cries in pain, tears and sweat running down his face, sometimes his mind plays tricks on him and he starts hallucinating, but not for a second does he even consider telling anything. He prays for them to make a mistake, to kill him, to send him to Prorok faster, but they are too skilled for that.


	18. Chapter 18

By the time Thace gets to the bridge to shut down the main power generator of the battle station, he feels lightheaded with loss of blood, and his vision starts to get blurry on the edges. Too much pain during the last two days must  have messed with his mind, because he has to make effort to suppress the urge to scratch himself for no reason. He leans on the terminal for support and starts typing in the code. When the druids appear, he doesn’t bother turning his head towards them. They don’t matter anymore. Nothing matters now, when he is so close.

 

“You are too late,” he hisses as he sends the code off. Finally, his deed is done and he doesn’t have to hide anymore.

 

“No, Thace,” one druid answers. “ _ You _ are too late, we already changed the code!”

 

Panicking, Thace looks at the display and yes, it is blinking red. They surpassed him! He failed! Everything he hoped for is done for! The druids start off to him, but before they can reach him, a small figure cuts across them and throws a knife. The disgusting creature explodes from inside at the contact, and the blade falls down to the floor, rattling. Not just any blade.  _ The Blade _ .

 

“Maybe we haven’t yet lost!”

 

But there is no time to be surprised or celebrate, as the second druid already regained himself and sends a wave of dark quintessence at Thace. The lieutenant manages to dodge it, even if the movement sends a wave of scorching pain through his side. The intruder grabs his knife and attacks the druid, toppling him over, and Thace throws the enemy at the reactor. One second, one flash, and he is gone like his counterpart.

 

Thace exhales.  _ Now what? _ The intruder does not let him think properly, though.

 

“I am Keith,” he says, his voice edgy and a little too loud for Thace’s ringing head. “The paladin of the red lion.”

 

_ Shut up and let me think, _ Thace wants to say, but also:  _ thank you _ .

 

“And a fellow Blade, as I see,” he manages instead.

 

He is very young, a child still, but his eyes are those of a warrior. He is strained beyond imaginable, like a string that might break any instant. Not that it matters, though: Thace is too weak, too tired of physical and emotional pain, too desperate and hurt to be happy about meeting new people. He turns towards the terminal and starts examining it, barely listening to the boy talking to Kolivan. The terminal is a high-security one, Thace tries several codes and keys, but nothing works. Soldiers start shooting from the other side of the door. Soon they will break through, the time dwindles and Thace has to make a decision; he starts re-plugging the wires. He knows he should be scared, but instead, he feels relieved. At last, it will be done. At last, this weight will fall off his shoulders. At last…

 

“What are you doing?” the boy asks.

 

“I'm using the main power to overload the system. There's an exit through the main power conduit. It leads to the second deck.”

 

The boy doesn’t understand yet.

 

“Go, now!” Thace exclaims. “You must, I will shut down the system.”

 

The boy’s purple eyes widen with shock. Poor thing, he is not used to losing his comrades yet, even if he hardly knows them. I need to say something reassuring, Thace understands. Something that will raise the boy's spirits, help him in his fight. Something that Kolivan could say if he was here.

“Paladin, this is where my journey ends. As a member of Voltron, you have a bigger mission.”

 

His own voice sounds petty in comparison to the leaders deep, assured tone. Still, the child nods, thinking that he understands Thace's reasons. What does he even know...  The boy dives down from the edge and Thace raises his gun to start shooting as the door is broken. He shoots as long as he can, then he hides behind the terminal. It is time.

 

Happiness engulfs Thace, he feels calm and warm at last. It is so close. He will not have to wait too long. Very soon, he will see Prorok on the other side. The reactor starts glowing brighter, pulsating, and Thace can’t help but smile when he looks at it, even if tears are burning his eyes. He briefly wonders what Prorok will look like in the other world.  _ Will he still have his sweet belly or will he be thin and athletic, like he always wanted to be? _ It doesn't matter, though. The important thing is that this is going to be Prorok. His darling, his heart and soul, the only light in his life that he extinguished with his own hands thanks to his stupid beliefs.

 

“I will tell you everything this time, each tiniest detail, I swear!” Thace whispers frantically, his vision blurring. Suddenly, it seems that Prorok is standing right next to him, but Thace has no energy left to stretch his arm and touch him.

 

“I will beg for your forgiveness. I deserve any kind of punishment, I will kneel as long as it takes, let you do anything, just to earn your smile again, just to make you look back at me! I know you will forgive me, you always have. You can still love me... I am coming, just a couple more seconds… “

 

As the reactor lights up from the inside and the heat becomes unbearable, Thace closes his eyes and smiles.  _ See you in the afterlife, my love. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so if you liked/disliked it or want a sequel, please drop me a comment. :-)


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